Eyes Unclouded
by Obwohl
Summary: Jack has left Torchwood behind to be with the Doctor, with the promise he will return. Ianto loses his sight, and must learn to deal with his new way of life with out help from Jack. T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

_I'll come back. I promise_

Jack kissed Ianto's hand softly as he leaned through the door of the TARDIS. His fingers lingered for a moment, but he snatched them away just as the heavy blue door slammed shut. Ianto stood hopelessly, watching the police box with his lover inside disappear.

_I believe you_, Ianto whispered to the air. A light breeze blew over him, his tie swaying, caused by the sudden absence of TARDIS. His bottom lip quivered with the moment of doubt that passed through his mind – maybe Jack would not be back.

He had looked so happy, enthralled and eager when the Doctor had strolled into the Hub. Ianto could remember the look on his captain's face when he first saw the Time Lord. It reminded him suspiciously of the cliché in movies, love at first sight, or the reunion of an old separated lover. Jealousy swept over Ianto and he tensed in the crisp autumn weather. He wrapped his trench coat tighter around him, squeezing the hatred and jealousy out of his body.

It was not the first time Jack had left. He had come back, but he was different. He had come back, but it had been after a long time. How long would it be this time?

Ianto scuffed his feet on the smooth pavement as he walked back to the Tourist Information booth. He had only just sprinted from there, chasing Jack, chasing the heart wrenching sound of the TARDIS. He knew that it would mean losing Jack, maybe for a little while, maybe for ever. Ianto had been reading the paper, sipping his coffee with Jack leaning over his shoulder, his neck nuzzled into Ianto's collar. Always ready, Ianto had his jacket within reach and had managed to whip it on as he followed his captain onto the street.

When Ianto returned to his coffee it had turned stone cold. Sighing, Ianto poured it into the sink and flipped the percolator on, starting the calming burbling of the coffee maker. Jack's cup sat on the desk, tiny rings of perspiration forming on the desk. He never used the coaster; no matter how many times Ianto had begged, pleaded and harassed him to. Ianto picked up the mug and stared at it, focusing all his anger on the porcelain cup. He flung it into the wall above the sink. It shattered, shards splashing around him, into his face and eyes. His eyes watered and his vision swam red. Hastily he made his way to the back door of the shop, using his hands to guide him. He could feel blood dripping down his face, spilling over his bottom eyelids.

_God, Ianto! What happened? _

Tosh spun around from her desk when she heard the slap of skin against the concrete walls of the hub. She leapt up and wrapped her hands around Ianto's shoulders, guiding him towards the autopsy bay.

_Owen? Help me! _

_Stop it, Tosh. It's not that bad. _

Ianto slumped onto the table, his eyes wide open and looking at the ceiling. He knew he could injure his eyes more if he closed them, but he wanted nothing more than to squeeze them shut. Owen reached the top of the circular staircase and saw Ianto's eyes.

_Ianto don't you dare shut your eyes!_

Ianto gave in to the pain. He closed them tight, and after a moment of screaming agony as the porcelain ripped through his flesh, the pain ebbed away. It would come back later, but for the moment he had gained a reprieve.

_Ianto you twat. Did I not just say?_

Owen grabbed his tiny torch and pair of surgical tweezers.

_Ok, this time, do what I tell you. Keep your bloody eyes closed or I swear I will cut into you eyes myself. _

Ianto grunted in response and allowed himself to be pushed back onto the table onto his back. Owen plucked the shards of pottery from Ianto's skin, wiping away the blood that leaked from his eyes. He lowered the torch to right beside Ianto's eyelids and the shards were illuminated.

_Holy shit Ianto, what did you do? There are at least… ten foreign objects in your lenses. Did you shove gravel in your face for fun?_

_Your bedside manner is so comforting, Owen. I will never understand why you made the move from a general practitioner to working in autopsy. _

_Yeah well, at least I don't make my living by working as a tea boy, Tea Boy. _

Ianto groaned.

_Don't you dare roll your eyes, Jones!_

_I won't. _

Owen shook his head as he grabbed a syringe from the drawer beside him.

_This will hurt a lot. _

_Thanks for softening the blow. _

_You know me, mate. Always honest. _

With out further warning he slid the needle into the centre of Ianto's eye, quickly followed by another injection into the other eye. Almost instantly the numbing agent flooded the front half of Ianto's face, and completely vanished.

_Ok, Ianto. I'm going to put you asleep so I can get these out. _

Ianto murmured a reply, but his intended list of insults aimed at Owen was abruptly cut off when Owen placed a gas mask over his nose.

Jack caressed the back of Ianto's shoulders, slowly rubbing his warm hands over Ianto's bare flesh. The warmth of his whole body flooded Ianto, and he reclined back into his Captain's lap. He could smell the soft musk that was so clearly Jack's, a smell so intoxicating he could hardly form words. Jack slid his hands from Ianto's back to his chest, creeping down the centre of his torso. He bent down and kissed his partner's forehead, tasting the light film of sweat that he had a moment ago lured from his body. The small bed in the bunker was hardly big enough for the two of them, but it added to the excitement. It was a game, a new challenge to over come, with the most delicious of rewards.

They slid over each others bodies to lie comfortably next to each other, and Ianto fell into a light slumber. He could feel Jack's heart beat beneath his hand as he drifted to sleep. Ianto's dreams were interrupted by Jack's heart beat quickening, his breath getting shallower, moving away from the synchronized pattern they had fallen into. Ianto lifted his head to examine his lover's face, which was a picture of soft joy. Jack's lips moved, with soft sounds escaping.

_Jack. What are you dreaming about?_ Ianto whispered, imagining Jack reliving their acts over again.

_You, Doctor. _

A tiny voice escaped from Jack's lips. Ianto's heart paused, and he recoiled to the very edge of the bed, pressing himself against the cold cement wall. He closed his eyes and wished that he was dreaming.

Ianto tried to open his eyes, but a combination of weakness and tape stopped him.

_Just as I suspected. You still aren't doing what I told you, Ianto. _

_Some things never do change, do they sir?_

_Sir? Now that's a new one, Tea Boy._

Owen pulled the surgical tape off Ianto's eyes and instructed him to _slowly _open his eyes. The world erupted into his vision, blurred but colourful, and filled with Owen.

_God, it's you. _Ianto spat at the doctor. He had been dreaming, and thought that he had woken up beside Jack, down in the bunker.

_Not God, per say. I was aiming for supreme over lord, but God will do. _

Ianto cringed, his face taut, stuck into shape by an anti-infection cream. He slowly looked around the room by turning his head rather than moving his eyes. Slumping back onto the pillow Ianto reached up to touch his face. His hand passed over one side of his face, and he watched it disappear out of his line of sight as it passed his nose.

_Owen? Are you holding something over my eye? What have you put over it?_

Owen leaned over his patient with his newly discovered friend – the tiny flash light. He flicked it on and off over Ianto's eyes, alternating sides, muttering to himself.

_Pupil dilation…. Fine… optical colour…. Fine..._

_Owen, tell me this is one of your sick jokes. I get it – it's funny. Can you stop messing about now?_

Panic filled Ianto as he tried to stay still, gripping the side of the couch. The soft lounge was no longer a comforting place to slowly regain consciousness in. Now it felt like he was drowning in soft suede. He ripped at his face, trying to pull away the mask blocking his vision.

_Ianto! I-AN-TO! _

Owen grappled with the young man and forced his hands to his side. Tosh ran over placed her soft yet firm hands on Ianto's chest, pushing him back and stopping him from struggling.

_Tosh, grab a sedative off the blue table in autopsy. Go! Get Gwen on your way._

Tosh reluctantly removed her hands from Ianto's chest and ran down the spiral staircase, calling for Gwen as she descended. Gwen emerged from behind the cog door. In a split second she had the situation decided in her mind, and flung herself at Ianto of the couch.

_Shhh, cariad… Gwan mo arswyda. Shhh… _

Gwen stroked Ianto's hair lightly. Ianto's wriggling lessened, and he slowed down his breathing. Tears leaked from his wide open eyes, the red colour dripping from his left eye causing Gwen's breath to catch inside her chest.


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen caught Owen's gaze, he looked worried. Owen took a swathe of cotton wool and lightly pressed it over the blood. It instantly absorbed the liquid, sucking up as much as it could, dripping blood down Owen's fingers as he pressed harder. He quickly swapped it for another, putting the blood soaked wad down out of Ianto's line of sight.

_Ianto… Do you want it straight? Or shall I lie so you don't try and kill me?_

_Well, is there anyway you could tell me what's going on, but not in your normal bedside manner?_

_No promises mate, but I'll give it a go. _

Ianto tensed beneath Gwen's soft embrace. She smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead as Tosh reappeared, brandishing a syringe.

_Here it is. _

_Bit late, aren't you Tosh?_

_Well, uh, I er… Sorry._

_Never mind. _

Owen muttered under his breath a few short obscenities, averting his gaze from Gwen and Ianto.

_Look, mate. _

Gwen rolled her eyes angrily, leant over and slapped him on the cheek.

_Can't you try and be a LITTLE bit sensitive?_

Owen shrugged.

_Ianto. You may have burst a series of vessels, ruptured your actual eyeball, or torn or sliced your optic nerve. Right now, you have some vitreous fluid and blood running down your face, which leads me to believe that you have ruptured your eyeball _and _burst a series of blood vessels. _

_Oh. Is that all? _

_For now._

_Great. What else could happen?_

_Well the vitreous humor leaking from your eye could infect the other wounds in your face which could lead to a massive…_

_Shut up, Owen. He doesn't need to know that now. _

_Well he didn't need to shove a broken plate in his face either._

_Mug._

Owen and Gwen stopped bickering and looked at Ianto.

_What?_

Ianto sighed.

_It wasn't a plate. It was a mug. And I didn't _shove _it in my face. I threw it at the wall and it exploded. _

_Why did…? Oh never mind. I won't believe you. I don't need to know. Did it have anything in it?_

_It still had a bit of coffee in it._

_Crap._

_Don't tell me. This makes it worse because now not only do I have pieces of a cup in my face, but I also have coffee which could lead to an even bigger infection than you thought of in the first place. _

_Yeah, that sounds about right. _

Owen looked around him as he pressed harder on the dressing. One handed he rummaged through his medical bag and extracted his surgical tape. He secured the cotton wool and zipped up his bag. At the moment he could not do more. Not at Torchwood. Ianto needed a proper hospital, with an optical surgeon. Not that he was about to tell Ianto that he needed drastic surgery. He would tell him later. Once they got to the hospital, and probably after the surgery. Yes, that was the best way to handle this. Just say he needed some minor hospital treatment, an IV drip maybe to regain some fluid he lost while he was under the anaesthetic at Torchwood.

_Come on mate. Let's get you to the hospital. You need some antibiotics. _

_Don't we have them here? I thought we had everything here._

_Well we don't, OK? There are just some things that bloody Torchwood doesn't have on hand. Like for instance, an antibiotic made specifically to counter the potential infection brought on by internationally grown coffee beans that were probably harvested from a field fertilized by human excrement. _

_As if I would make coffee that was grown in human excrement. It_ _came from Luwak excrement._

Owen, Gwen and Tosh pulleddisgusted faces. Tosh looked almost sick as she nudged away her coffee mug she had set on the floor just a moment ago.

_I was joking. Do you know how much Luwak coffee is? About a hundred and twenty pounds for a pound. I only make that for Jack. _

Owen raised his eyebrow for a millisecond, then swore to himself. He had heard about this stupid coffee. People would stalk these over grown squirrels around the forest and pick up their crap, which had supposedly the best tasting beans that had been cooked by the animal's internal oven. Disgusting. He really had to get Ianto to the hospital now. Faecal matter in a ruptured eye – if Jack ever came back, he'd kick Owen's head in if he kept Ianto in the Hub.

_Let's go, Ianto. Before you faint from not enough water. I refuse to carry you to the SUV. I'm sorry but I draw the line at lifting heavy objects. _

Gwen lodged one arm under Ianto's and pulled him to his feet. Gwen tried to half carry Ianto across the Hub, but Ianto refused and snapped at her.

_I'm half blind, not an invalid. _

Gwen dropped his weight and stepped back, shocked. Ianto held his hands out in an apology.

_Sorry. I… I…_

He couldn't find a reason, or the words to even make her feel better. His mouth just opened and closed with out making a sound, like a fish trying to breathe. Gwen patted him lightly.

_It's alright, Ianto. You're scared._

Ianto grunted in response, not wanting to appear as though he was agreeing with her, though he secretly was. He made his way through the Hub to cog door, and tripped up the stairs. Gwen grabbed at his clothes to stop him falling on his face.

_I'm fine, Gwen. You don't have to watch me like I'm a toddler._

She held her hands up, like she was in a hold up.

_Not touching you. _

Ianto tried to scowl, but the tape across his face held his skin firm, and he only succeeded in making a strange half enthusiastic smile. When he reached the top of the stair case he marched confidently towards the SUV. He grabbed for the door handle but missed by several inches. Angrily, he grabbed for it again, bashing his and into the side panel, further away from the handle than he was the first time. He kicked the door in frustration the stepped aside, crossing his arms.

Gwen stood beside and made a hesitant move towards the door, but stopped. The horn of the SUV blasted in their ears, Owen's patience failing again. Ianto moved his hand slightly, giving up and allowing Gwen to open the door for him.

_Watch your head_.

Ianto ignored her as he stepped into the vehicle, grazing his head on the way.

_Don't. Please. Don't say anything._

Ianto whispered as Gwen slid in next to him. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she buckled herself in. Before Ianto could find his own seatbelt, Owen had gunned the SUV and floored it down the street. They _had _to get to the hospital. Owen thought about having a one eyed man brewing his coffee. The sugar pot was not all that different to the salt pot. That and Jack would come back from the depths of time and space to kill him if Ianto lost his vision.


	3. Chapter 3

_Mr..?_

_Harper, Owen Harper._

_Are you a close friend of the admitting patient? _

Owen shifted uncomfortably in his shoes, shooting an uncertain glance to Gwen, who nodded slightly.

_Yeah. _

The nurse with the clipboard raised her eye brows, one corner of her mouth tugging to the side. She could see he was lying, but continued.

_Can you give me any details as to what happened?_

_Segments of a smashed coffee cup in his eye, that had coffee in it. _Owen leaned closer to the nurse and watched her finish writing. _It was Luwak coffee. _

The nurse raised her eyes again, this time not sure whether or not to believe him. Owen lowered his voice so Gwen and Tosh couldn't hear him. He hadn't gone into any more detail about his concerns about the coffee.

_Luwak coffee is internationally grown, and is harvested out of animal excrement. I tried to cauterise the wounds on his face so nothing could get in them, but I could only wash out his eyes. There were a lot of pieces that had penetrated his eyeball, and as far as I could tell, they are still in there. I took out what I could, but I don't have the skill for optic surgery in our facility. He lost vision in his left eye, and his right is still blurry._

The nurse's calm demeanour slipped away as she rushed to write all the information onto the board. Tight lipped, she excused herself and trotted towards the Emergency Room doors. As she slipped through them she broke into a run. Owen watched her sprint down the hall, and he sunk deep into his seat, cursing.

The violent buzz of a cell phone vibrating shook Ianto awake. He slid his hands hurriedly to his face and was greeted with a sharp tug on his wrists. Staring into blackness, his hands crept over each other, discovering soft yet strong bands. His fingers explored further, finding a chain that linked his hands to the cold metal railing of his bed.

_Sir, you can't have cell phones in here. _

Owen started from his own sleep to look up at a cross ward nurse. Rubbing his face and regaining sensation in his cheek he muttered an apology, and snatched the black phone from the bedside table. He tucked it into his shirt pocket, but the nurse was used to such tricks.

_Please turn your phone off, sir. It could interfere with your friend's observation machines. _

Owen grumpily extracted his phone again and held down the red button, the light from the screen faded to black. She smiled triumphantly and turned to her charge.

_Good to see you awake, Mr Jones. _

_Wish I could say the same. _

He waved his hands towards his face.

_Have you covered both my eyes for good measure?_

_You have a bandage around your face, Mr Jones, to stop any chance of infection getting in._

_What about what is already in there?_

_I'm sorry?_

_I had coffee in my eye. Can't I still get infections from that? It's already in my eye. _

_Any foreign matter was cleaned from your eyes, Mr. Jones. You don't need to worry. _The irritated nurse changed tact. _Are you feeling up to breakfast? _

Ianto grunted, and the nurse turned on her toe. He could hear her mutter under her breath as she walked away, something about ungrateful and know-it-all patients.

_Owen?_

_Yeah, mate?_

_Why am I tied to the bed?_

_Well, uh, the first time you came out of anaesthetic you weren't exactly cooperative. _

_Right. If I promise to be a good boy, can you take them off now?_

Owen leaned over and examined Ianto's face, checking for eye movement.

_Mate, you could promise till you're blue in the face, I ain't gunna untie you. _

Ianto did not reply. He knew it was pointless.

_Any way, I thought you were used to this handcuff thing._

Ianto swiftly brought his knee up into Owen's chest, winding him. As he tried to regain his breath, Ianto wrapped the chain around Owen's wrist and flung him onto the bed. Ianto wrenched the other chain up and wrapped it around his throat. Choking, Owen flailed around on the bed.

_You're a bastard, you know that? Basdun!_

_Ianto! What are you doing?_

Gwen appeared at the door. She dashed to the bed and peeled Owen out of Ianto's grasp.

_Wash your Welsh mouth out with soap! _

_But he is._

_I don't care. _

_You sound like my mother. _

_Love, what were you doing?_

Owen coughed loudly and gave Gwen a pointed look, clearly saying "What about me?" His neck had turned bright red. Ianto muttered like a teenager.

_I didn't do any thing. _

_Clearly! Can't you see what you've done to Owen's neck?_

Ianto tensed his muscles, and turned away from Gwen, as though he was trying not to look at her.

_Oh love, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I didn't mean it. Ianto? Come on, love. You know I didn't mean it. _

_I know you didn't mean it. But you still said it._

Tears welled up in Gwen's eyes. Owen grasped her by the shoulder and led her out of the room.

_Leave it, Cooper. He isn't serious. He won't hold it against you. But you can't treat him like a victim here. Some one that your job is to console. It is not your job._

Gwen sniffed tearfully and returned to Tosh in the waiting room. Owen looked over his shoulder, through the glass wall of Ianto's ward. A doctor tapped slowly down the hall, reading a chart as he walked. He looked up at the name plate on Ianto's door and entered.

_Good morning, Mr. Jones._

_Is it?_

Owen heard Ianto say shortly. He rolled his eyes and crept into the room behind the doctor. Silently he sat down in the chair, pressing his finger lightly to his lips when the doctor looked at him, nonplussed. The doctor looked at the visitor's badge on Owen's chest – he was the one that brought Ianto in, the doctor remembered.

_Mr. Jones. Last night we had to do an emergency optical surgery to remove the objects from your eye. There was some damage to your optic nerve already, and to get the objects that were deeper in your eye we had to make some small incisions._

_Look, Doctor. Please just tell me with out the tiny details. _

_Ok. You have what is called a penetrating injury. Where a sharp object has sliced through optical nerves and tissues. It is worse in your left eye, and there is an extremely high chance of infection, especially because we were unable to completely drain all of the foreign fluid from your eye. There was a large amount of bleeding in both eyes, between the cornea and the iris. Both of these injuries can result in permanent loss of vision. It will be several days before we can know for sure, but it is unlikely that you will regain vision in your left eye. But your right eye has a better chance._

_Oh. _

_I am sorry I couldn't give you better news. There are new surgical methods that are being developed that have been able to restore some degree of vision, and you may be able to receive that surgery._

Ianto lifted his head slightly, dubious.

_What are the chances of success?_

_Well, there haven't been any official counts yet…_

_I see. _

The doctor rested a comforting hand on Ianto's shoulder.

_I will be back tomorrow to check on your progress._

_Bye. _

Ianto grimaced behind the bandages, and the tears that were forming began to sting his swollen eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Tosh tiptoed into Ianto's room beneath the dull night lighting. She was tired from the long day at the Hub, three people to do five's job wasn't the best economy. Because she was not much of a field person, she had been delegated to all the inside chores, including making coffee. She had never appreciated what Ianto did for them more than she did then. Flipping on the switch beside the bed, Tosh greeted her friend with a silent smile. She had not woken him. Not that she wanted to, she just needed his company, his presence. Someone to share the silence. As she sat down, her eyes wandered over the bandages covering Ianto's eyes, and the partly healed cuts on his skin.

_You don't look too bad._

Tosh muttered. But she knew she was being too hopeful. She knew the damage on the outside was rarely better on the inside.

_I don't feel too bad._

Tosh jumped at being addressed.

_Sorry I woke you. I just wanted to check on you._

_It's ok. Thanks. _

His hands fumbled through the air in search of Tosh's hand. Lightly, Tosh grasped it and rested them on the bed.

_That bad a day, huh? Feels like you need coffee._

Your _coffee Ianto. We can't make it, at all, with out you. In more ways than one. _

_Thanks._

_Is there anything I can do for you, Ianto?_

_Well…_

A half joking, half wistful smile crossed his face.

_Within reason. _

Tosh giggled.

_Can you tell me what is at the end of my bed? I can't figure it out. It feels heavy, but it is in something, and I can't figure out how to get in it. _

Tosh stood up and walked to the bed end, finding a fat, heavily taped parcel.

_It's a package. _

_Does it say from who?_

_No._

_Why can't I get into it?_

_It has been taped together with lots of Sellotape. In lots of strips. Do you want me to open it?_

_Yes._

She leant over Ianto and took the knife from his food tray. It sliced messily across the serrations of the blade, loudly cutting jagged edges as Tosh sawed away. With out looking at what was inside, she handed the package to Ianto. He fished out a huge sheet of soft, thick material. Bringing it close to his face, he sniffed it warily. Slowly he fingered through the mass, familiarising himself with it. He knew what it was. Jerking back from it, Ianto dropped it like hot coals.

_Ianto? What's wrong?_

_Take it away, please take it away. _

A dry sob cut through the air, followed by a shallow whimper escaping Ianto's lips.

_It's gone, Ianto. It's gone._

Tosh shoved the material back into it paper wrapping, and slid it into her bag. Lightly, she smoothed Ianto's hair, whispering in his ear a comforting - shh. Some minutes passed and Ianto's breathing slowed, his muscles relaxing, but Tosh could still feel him crying. She pulled herself away from his body and gasped inwardly as she saw his face. The crisp white bandages were now blossoming with red. She slapped her hand to her mouth to hush her shock. With a quick squeeze of Ianto's hand, she whispered to him distractedly.

_I'll be back in a little, Ianto. Maybe tomorrow. I'll see you then, ok?_

_Ok._

Ianto whispered so quietly Tosh didn't even hear him as she fled the room. Her flat shoes skidded on the tiles as she hurried to the nurses' station. A nurses' aid looked up warmly.

_Ianto… he is bleeding. His eyes are bleeding. _

The nurse dropped her pen and slid around the desk.

_He was crying… He wasn't like that before._

The nurse hastened to Ianto's ward, slowing her gait as she entered.

_Good evening, Mr. Jones. I'm just here to change your bandages before I go off shift. Can I get you anything before I leave?_

Ianto just shook his head. Tosh watched through the glass panes as the nurse peeled away the crimson layers to reveal Ianto's swollen eyes. Her hand crept to her mouth as she saw the stitches across his eyelids where he had sliced them opening and closing his eyes. Blood stained the skin around his eyelashes, with a stray droplet running down the side of his nose. A tiny bead of yellow-white pus leaked from the corner of his eye. Tosh couldn't bare it anymore.

Gwen looked at her cup of tea, scrunching her nose at the smell. It wasn't bad, but she craved the tiny cappuccino with the extra shot of caffeine Ianto would make her on the coldest of mornings, where the wind would bite at her face, and slowly creep into her shoes as she sat at her desk. But at the same time, she couldn't shake the image of a Luwak making her coffee in the middle of a forest.

_Gwen, come on. He has been gone for three days. _

_I know, but I guess I got used to it._

_You should go see him._

_No. For once I don't know what to say._

_You could try saying nothing for a change._

_Shut up, Owen. _

Gwen got up and skulled her tea, holding her nose, imagining that it was the delicious liquid that she craved.

_When will he come back?_

_Well he should be out of hospital in a couple of days, and you can't keep him away from work. I don't think having half the vision as usual would stop him._

Gwen muttered an incoherent response as she rinsed her cup out in the sink.

_Well that's if he doesn't get an infection._

Tosh jumped out of her daze.

_Owen, how can you tell if there is an infection?_

_Well, usually there is swelling, and a significant presence of white blood cells. _

_White blood cells, they look like pus, don't they?_

_Well, in an infection it is pus. _

Tosh's eyes widened and she bit her lip.

_What would an infection do? _

_It would mean Ianto would lose all vision in the affected eye. Tosh, what do you know?_

_I was there last night. He started crying and his eyes bled, and when the nurse changed the bandages I could see pus in the corner of his eyes._

Owen slammed his fist on the table then raced out of the hub. Tosh and Gwen stared at each other as they heard the SUV scream away.


	5. Chapter 5

Ianto hugged his sheets tight, pulling them to his trembling chin, the scent still lingering in his nostrils. The heavenly, powerful, painful, remindful scent washed over him. Ianto could still feel the cross-stitched fabric beneath his finger tips, even though he had thrown it from his grasp hours ago.

He had been left alone by the nurses, alone with only his thoughts.

Ianto cursed the person who had left the package there, taunting him. He was surprised at himself for taking so long to recognise the blanket. As the soft fibres slid across his fingers, he did not know the familiar material. It was the smell, that _intoxicating _smell, that made him remember. The passion filled nights, the energy, the love, every moment flooded back, each crease in the blanket a trigger.

_Jack._

Ianto whispered to himself, slowly becoming less frightened. But as soon as the fear faded away, it was replaced by anger. The same anger that had brought him to the hospital. But stronger. Now his hate towards the Doctor and his thieving TARDIS, thieves of his lover, had grown, changed.

It had been Jack's choice to leave.

Jack had chosen the Doctor over Ianto, chosen to leave him behind and replace him with another. How many times had Jack done that in his life already?

_You will have had a lot of practice, Jack. Leaving people behind. Deserting them. Forgetting them. _

Ianto's thoughts bitterly tumbled from his lips.

_At least I will never see him again. _

A callous laugh erupted.

_Even if he comes back. But he won't._

His heart tugged and churned inside his chest, missing Jack for the last time. Ianto imagined what it would have been like, if he hadn't thrown the mug, going back to Torchwood. Every job he did, every direction he could look in, would have reminded him of Jack. Just catching a glance of Jack's office, or his signature on an old sheet of paper work would have reduced him to tears.

_But not now. _

Ianto declared to himself. He could go back to Torchwood, keep doing his job, with the new challenge of doing it blindfolded. Jack had always claimed Ianto spent so much time in the Hub that he could make it around in a blindfold. Now all Ianto had to do was put it into practice.

The fog lifted from Ianto's thoughts, and he replayed the conversation he had with the surgeon.

_Mr. Jones._

_Yes?_

_We have started you on a course of specific antibiotics to combat the infection, but there has been too much damage to save the sight in your left eye. Unfortunately your right eye has also become infected, and any chance that you could recover full sight is slim. _

_So… I will be completely blind._

_Possibly. We are still hoping that the infection doesn't spread any further. Because the damage to you right eye was not as severe as the other, I think you will have a good chance of retaining partial sight. _

_Partial? How much?_

_It will depend on how each part of you eye heals, but in most likely hood you will be able to distinguish light areas from dark. As you heal, possibly in several years time, your eye tissues will regenerate to the extent that you can see specific shapes, maybe even areas of colour. I'm afraid that from now on, it is a waiting game. _

_How long until I can go home?_

_In a few days, once the majority of the infection has cleared. You'll still be on antibiotics for a while, but you can continue that course while you're at home._

_Thanks…_

The surgeon smiled sadly, knowing his patient couldn't see him leave, and walked loudly from the room, his hard shoes tapping on the sterile floor.

******

_Hi, Ianto._

Out of habit Ianto raised his head, looking up. The moment he did he recoiled back again.

_Hello. _

Gwen shuffled into the ward clutching her handbag so tight her fingers turned white.

_Are you ready to come home, love?_

Ianto scrunched his nose up, then rubbed it to cover up his disapproval of his escort. He was over having people talk to him sympathetically, constantly apologising for something that he did to himself. They tried to make it about them, tell him how _they _would feel if it were them in the hospital.

_Where is your bag, Ianto? _

_Oh, it's over here. _

Ianto had packed his bag the night before, running his fingers over each object before carefully placing it in the bag. He knew where every object was. Ianto knew that when he got home, Gwen or Tosh would worry over him and try and unpack his things, so he did what he knew he did best. He organised himself. He planned, he rehearsed.

Ianto slid his legs off the bed and cautiously gripped the end of the bed. The nurse had helped him change into his jeans and sweater, walked him up and down the corridor at Ianto's request, to begin his façade of capability.

_Can I take that for you?_

Gwen asked, her voice dripping with concern.

_Take what?_

Ianto assumed an air of ignorance, but making it clear he knew perfectly well that she meant his bag. For a second a twinge of guilt passed over Ianto, for he knew she meant well. But this was how it had to be. He had to start off prickly, so that when he got his grip on things, it would be like how things used to be. Ianto hated being babied.

Gwen bit back her confusion and walked out in front of him. This, Ianto was grateful for. He could hear which way the door was. They made their way past the nurses' station, into the lift, down the corridor and into the entrance area.

It was mid morning, and the flow of people in the waiting area poured around them. Ianto was bumped several times, and he was sure he had stood on a small child. He gave up on his independence for the moment – getting out of the hospital was the most important thing. He was sick of it. Gwen jumped slightly when she felt Ianto slide his hand into hers.

Ianto paused when he felt the blast of the icy air as they stepped through the glass doors.

_Ianto? _

_Hmmm?_

Ianto forgot for the moment the icy façade.

_I have to hail a taxi, can you stay here?_

_Yeah, sure._

Ianto could feel her hesitation. The half half uncertainty she felt about leaving him for a second or bringing him close to the curb, close to the steady flow of bustling traffic.

A strong gust of wind streaked across the street, shooting through Ianto's sweater. He swayed in breeze like a leaf and stumbled.

_Whoa! Ianto. Careful, love. _

Gwen caught him by the front of his shirt, tugging him into her chest. He could feel her breath warming his cheek, creeping through the white bandages over his eyes.

_Ready?_

_Yeah._

_Come on then. _

_Who's place are you taking me? _

_Owen's. He has a spare room and bathroom. And he is staying late at work tonight so you can get some sleep. _

_Owens. Ok…_

Ianto felt his way into the back seat of the cab, wondering whose idea that was.

**Thanks for all the reviews, they are love. Hint hint. More chapters on the way, but they may take a little while to get uploaded due to school. Cheers, O.**


	6. Chapter 6

****

Thanks for all the reviews! I thought I would reward you all with a bit more of a lighthearted chapter. O.

* * *

Ianto slid cautiously down onto the low couch and sighed as he heard the door click shut. Gwen had spent over an hour leading Ianto through Owen's apartment, telling him where every object was. All the while Ianto had been wondering how she knew. He eased his hands across the smooth leather chair, finding the crease in the middle, then the arm rest at the other end. After having to lie in a bed for several days straight, all Ianto wanted to do was sit up straight. He sighed again and stood up.

_Ok, kitchen. Where are you? _

Ianto edged across the room, the toe of his sneaker catching on the corner of the rug.

_Ahhh f…_

_Don't you swear in my house, tea boy. _

Ianto jumped, not improving his condition. He turned and caught his hip on the sharp edge of the counter and he tumbled to the floor, his arms flailing and hitting kitchen drawers on the way down.

_Shit, sorry mate. Come on, up ya get. _

_What happened to not swearing in your house?_

_I can swear, I just said you couldn't._

Grinning, Owen reached down and levered Ianto off the ground, his arm wrapping under Ianto's arm. With a slight grunt he hoisted Ianto into the air to sit on the kitchen bench.

_Woah! _

_There ya go. _

_What are you doing here?_

_What, in my house? _

_Shut up._

Ianto chuckled for the first time in days.

_I only dropped in to make sure I didn't leave anything out that was… uh…._

_Incriminating?_

_Yeah, that'll do. I was kinda hoping to get here before you and Gwen. _

Owen stood in front of Ianto's swinging legs, tilting his head from side to side.

_I can sort of see what you're doing, you know. _

_And what is that, exactly._

_Well, ah, moving something around in front of me._

_You can see that? _

_Well, sort of. You're in front of the window, and I can see a blur of something. _

Owen's tiny smile dropped. He had hoped that he could a bit more definition than that, especially in front of a window.

_Did Gwen show you the spare room? _

_Yeah, and the bathroom, and the kitchen and the fridge, every dvd in your drawer and the linen cupboard. _

_Tricky, that. Considering I don't have a linen cupboard. _

Ianto grinned again.

_Do you mind if I have a look, Ianto? _

The smile fell and the two men's faces mirrored each others.

_If you must. _

Ianto shuddered slightly when he felt Owen's freezing hands touch the soft skin under his eyes. The bandage stuck slightly as the medic peeled it away. Puffy orange skin greeted Owen as his fingers pressed lightly over the swollen flesh.

_So what's the diagnosis, Doctor Harper. _

_Nothing new._

_Surprise surprise._

_If you say so._

_Well I do say so._

_Ianto. _

_What?_

_Stop being such an ass. _

_Only if you stop it first._

_Well then, Mr Jones. It would appear that we have reached an impasse. As I shall never cease to be an ass, nor will you. What do you say to that? _

_Only that if that is indeed the case we shall have a grand time indeed. Twat._

Owen shook his head, both men grinning widely. He stuck the bandage back down and slapped Ianto on the shoulder.

_See ya later. I'm off for a hard night's drinking._

_Something new and different for a change._

_Well it sure beats ironing my suits._

_It's therapeutic. There is something calming about the smell of warm starch…_

_And there is something therapeutic about getting blind drunk and waking up in a park at three in the morning._

_You've done that?_

_Well, not since last week._

_You're an idiot._

_So are you._

Ianto groaned and tipped his head back.

_Don't roll your eyes. Didn't you listen to anything the doctors told you? _

Ianto straightened up and slid of the kitchen bench.

_Uhm, which way is the bathroom?  
_

_This way, mate. _

Grabbing the top of Ianto's sleeve, Owen dragged Ianto through the hallway and onto the tiled floor of the bathroom.

_How does this work? You can't see where the bowl is. If you piss on my floor I'm going to be really angry. _

Ianto blushed slightly.

_I've managed so far. _

Owen hovered for a moment, unsure of what to say, or do. He shuffled out the door and leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, wondering what the hell he was going to do with Ianto. No one had thought about how long Ianto had to stay with someone. How would he get to work? Could he still work? Half of what Ianto did was filing, and you can't file if you can read. Owen startled from his self-absorbed musings to the sound of a muffled obscenity.

_Shit. _

The dull thud of elbows tapping the walls and the violent sound of a zipper being hurriedly done up echoed in the hall way.

_Ianto? _

Owen growled. A soft metallic click told Owen that Ianto had locked the door.

_Ianto!_

He banged angrily on the door. On the other side Ianto slid down the door, barricading it further, a smile spreading across his face.

_Ianto! What have you done?_

_Uhmm…_

Ianto mumbled incoherently, trying not to chuckle out loud. He whispered just loud enough for Owen to know he was talking.

_What?_

Owen stopped banging and pressed his ear to the door.

_I missed._

_Tell me you're joking._

Ianto felt the door shudder as Owen bashed his head on the other side in frustration.

_You. Cannot. Be. Serious._

The door shuddered again and Ianto heard footsteps walk away from the door. Ianto suppressed another chuckle. He stuffed his hand over his mouth and rolled onto the floor, silent hysterical laughs wracking his body.

The sound of footsteps returning barely reached Ianto's ears.

_Ianto._

Owen's voice cooed through the door, followed by the grating of heavy furniture across tiles.

_You know how when you get drunk your ability to aim gets really bad._

_Yeah._

_And you know how bad I am at cleaning up after myself._

_Yeah._

Ianto stopped laughing, his body went rigid.

_And you know that I tend to get a bit wasted every now and again…_

It was Owen's turn to smile, and Ianto's face froze in silent terror. The door quivered as Owen pushed the lounge chair into the door.

_Just think about that for a while._

He chortled softly until he heard Ianto scramble to his feet, which made Owen laugh even harder.

_Let me out! Owen! This isn't funny!_

_Neither is pissing on my floor! So enjoy a nice mixture of two different samples of urine._

_There are laws against this. _

_I'm sure there are._

The door swung open and Owen stopped laughing.

_Oh. Inwards opening door. Right._

_Yeah. _

Ianto stepped forward and tripped over the couch. He crashed into Owen and they collapsed to the floor. After a moment silent recovery, they both laughed.

_That's twice today I've caught you, mate. You should have seen your face._

_I wish I could have seen yours._

Once again, the mood darkened, their broad joyous smiles disappearing.

_We really need to stop doing this, Ianto._

_Doing what?_

_Laughing hysterically then stopping because we run into mentioning your injury. _

_I agree._

_You didn't pee on my floor, did you._

_No._

_Thank god._

_You didn't really pee on your floor, did you?_

_Well, that I can't be sure._

_Great._

Owen slapped the floor hard with his hand and pushed himself up. He offered Ianto his hand.

_Beer?_

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

_Ready, Ianto?_

_For what?_

_To relearn everything. _

Ianto groaned at the sound of Owen's voice cutting through the chilly air. Even though he was unimpressed at Owen's point of view, Ianto was almost excited about going back to work. The night before Ianto had draped himself over the bed, on top of the covers, muscles tight with apprehension.

Gwen would make sure she would be there early; probably hook some form of string system that would guide him around the Hub. She would hover over him all day, and eventually do all of his work for him.

Tosh would carefully evaluate how well Ianto moved about, listen to every sound he made. She would stand around hopelessly lost, knowing that she should do something but not knowing what that was.

Ianto woke up, half dressed, to a muted Owen whispering to himself. Silently, Ianto crept to the door and poked his ear out, shielding his bare chest behind the door.

_Gwen, come in later. Take Rhys out for breakfast, I don't care. Just don't.._

The high pitched and tinny echo of Gwen's voice came through the telephone's speaker.

_You know exactly what I mean. _

Another moment passed with Owen listening half-heartedly to Gwen's indignant reply.

_Look. Gwen. Don't make it a big deal. Wait for him to ask for help. The best way for him to get back into the swing of things is sorting it out himself…… No of course I haven't done any training covering dealing with people. Why do you think I became a coroner! _

More angry babbling came from Gwen.

_Yes. Yes. I do think it's best. If it doesn't work then you can try your way in a week. Or two. Give him a bit of space…. Glad you can see it my way. Cheers._

Owen slid the phone back into its cradle and sighed with relief. He sipped noisily on his coffee and didn't hear Ianto close the door behind him. Ianto slid under the blankets, covering his bare chest, smiling sleepily.

*****

A slight breeze brushed over the two men as they crossed the threshold of the hub. The cog door ground shut and Owen patted Ianto on the shoulder. He strolled down to the autopsy bay, throwing a furtive glace over his shoulder at the suited man he left in the doorway. Ianto turned around slowly, trying to find a point of reference. A tiny blur of red light shone about the hub door, a point that Ianto had to remember.

He took a tiny shuffle forwards, was met with no resistance, then continued slightly more confidently. When he reached the stairs he stumbled and reeled backwards, his toe catching the metal bars. A soft yet firm hand pressed into his back between his shoulder blades and pushed him upright.

_Good morning, Ianto. _

Tosh's voice echoed shyly in the empty hub. She slid past Ianto on the stairs and her boots tapped on the concrete floor, getting quieter as she got closer to her work station.

Ianto blew a sigh a relief. Owen had talked to Tosh as well. Or Gwen had talked to Tosh, so she wouldn't feel targeted, which was more likely. He continued to grope his way up the stair case, more cautiously than he wanted to.

_Where am I going to start? _

Ianto muttered to himself. Almost as though he had been listening, Owen shouted from the autopsy bay.

_Hey, Ianto! Can I have coffee? Ta._

Ianto straightened up, tugging at his tie and building up his confidence.

_Would you like some coffee, Tosh? _

_Uhm, sure. Thanks Ianto. _

Ianto slowly circled on the spot, searching for the small red light above the hub door. He found it, and walked in the opposite direction – away from the cog door and towards kitchen.

It seemed like it took years to get through the door of the kitchen. Ianto's direction wasn't quite right, and he hit the hub wall about three meters to the left of the doorway. His cold fingers edged their way across the smooth concrete and eventually found the threshold.

Now came the hard part.

His hands scrabbled over the assorted jars and boxes on the counter, then up and over the coffee machine. The filter would need cleaning after sitting for nearly a week. His skin quivered when it was submerged in the cold coffee grinds, and the bitter aroma of old coffee filled his nostrils. With the water-heavy filter, Ianto swivelled around to the sink, and tipped the contents out.

The soft grounds splattered loudly as they hit a hard surface.

Ianto paused.

The splatter sounded further away than the sink should be. Ianto held his hands out and felt for the bench. Cold granite slammed into the side of his hand. He had turned too far.

Ianto sighed heavily.

He felt his way into the cupboard beneath the sink, took out the roll of paper towel, and after much difficulty finding the edge he tore off a strip. Ianto grunted as he tried to wipe up the brown sludge, but succeeded in only spreading it around the floor and deep into cracks. Leaning back on his heels, Ianto could feel his knees going numb from pressing into the floor. Even more discomforting still, his fingers had been numb from the cold floor and being soaked in cold water.

Ianto coughed, clearing his throat.

_Tosh?_

_Yes?_

Her tiny voice replied.

_Could you give me a hand?_

_Sure. Just hang on one moment._

Ianto could hear her tapping faster at her keyboard, trying to finish the line she was on. She trotted into the kitchen, gazing around.

_Where are you…_

Tosh's arms flew up into the air, and she tumbled into a heap on the floor.

_Tosh? Tosh? Are you ok? Are you hurt?_

A giggle escaping from Tosh's lips gave him his answer.

_What happened? What is this stuff?_

She held her hand out, covered in brown grounds, and sniffed it gingerly.

_Uhm, those would be week old Arabica coffee grounds. I am really sorry. I was trying to empty it into the sink, and I emptied, well… not in the sink._

Ianto sniffed as he tore off more paper towel and handed it to his left. On his right, Tosh took the towel and wiped her hands.

_Don't worry about it, Ianto. Next time you'll know the distance from the machine to the sink. _

Tosh caught a glance of Ianto's grey face through her fringe, the uncovered bloodshot eye unnerving her. She thought it looked almost like the pupil had leaked through into the white of the eye. Shaking her head clear of such thoughts, Tosh eased herself off the floor and checked herself over for any more of the elusive brown slush. Finding none, she turned back to Ianto, who had stood up as well.

_Do you want to get the mop, Ianto? I'll get the floor cleaner and leave you to it. Yeah?_

_Sure. _

Tosh quickly turned the hot water tap on, waited for it to heat up, while watching Ianto out of the corner of her eye. He navigated across the room cautiously and got a bucket and a broom.

_Uh it's the other one, Ianto. You've got the broom._

_Oh._

Blood rushed to Ianto's cheek with embarrassment and frustration. He handed Tosh the bucket, which she filled with hot water and floor cleaner liquid.

_Here you are Ianto. I'll leave you to it. Give me a shout if you need a hand. _

Tosh tried to sound bubbly, but she couldn't shake from her thoughts that this wasn't going to be the only interruption to her day. She marched from the room, already turning her thoughts back to the computer program she needed to run.

_Hey, Tosh?_

She paused.

_Hmmm?_

Ianto hesitated.

_Thanks._

_Don't mention it. _

Tosh flashed her tiny pleased smile and she continued back to her station. Ianto bit his lip and dipped the mop into the soapy liquid. He heard bubbly water splash onto the floor. It was going to be a repetitive day.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N – Thanks for all the reviews so far, they are love. Special thanks to figaro2 for pointing out the handiness of a cane in preventing the issues in the previous chapter, I hope I rectify my omission in this chapter. **

The bed was made, sort of. Creases that simply refused to cooperate were covered with pillows, and the sheets beneath the cover were not folded to any standard. But Ianto was pleased. That night, he would fall asleep in a made bed. Even though Ianto dreamt of crisp hospital-cornered sheets, he was almost beginning to like the feeling of wrapping himself up in the middle of the night, being able to just throw the sheets off the specifically hot parts of his body.

He marched smartly in the kitchen, his hands lightly dragging against the wall for subconscious support. The red and white walking stick leaned up against the side of the fridge, dust sitting on top.

From the get go, Ianto had refused to use the stick Gwen had given him. It had come out mean, his rejection of her consideration, but Ianto had decided he needed no training wheels – he wanted to learn the hard way. Why? He didn't know. It was a new challenge, something had changed and he wanted to encourage that change.

Jack had held his hand since he had become part of the close-knit team, fallen into a comfortable dependency on Jack to tell him how to react. Before Jack, it was Lisa. Before Lisa, it was his mother. Babying him and rubber coating the sharp corners of the world.

Not anymore.

Ianto didn't want to be alone, his nature could never cope with isolation, but he wanted the knowledge that he wouldn't fall apart if he found himself alone, if only for a little while.

Ianto ran his fingers over the microwave and pressed the start button, smiling at the satisfying beep that informed him he had hit the mark. Pressing his unbandaged eye to the door, Ianto tried to focus on the tiny yellow light at the back of the microwave. Some days he could see it, but mostly it was still dark. Often Ianto accused Owen of somehow covering the light to mess with his head, but each time Owen would sigh, open the door, shove Ianto's hand to the back of the microwave and made him feel for the non-existent covering.

The machine announced its completion, and released the delicious warm fruit bread. Nothing was better, hot fruit loaf with butter and a cup of coffee, in the morning. Except maybe the feeling of brushing his teeth afterwards. The smooth, icy, mint fresh taste it left in Ianto's mouth was worth savouring for as long as he could, which was usually as long as it took him to get to work and put on the percolator.

The simple satisfaction of cleaning amused Ianto. People like Owen and Tosh, both who were utterly brilliant minds, couldn't clean a leather sofa with out destroying it. It never ceased to amuse Ianto when ever he sat on the lounge at Owens, rough patches covering it where he had tried to wash gin off it with hot water and dishwasher detergent.

Ianto sat patiently in the passenger seat of Owen's car in the garage, letting the engine warm up as Owen ran down the stairs, still dressing himself.

_God, can you never make it on time?_

Ianto attempted, unsuccessfully to sound irritated.

_Have you ever tried to get nail polish off without real nail polish remover? I tried to use vodka_.

_And how did that work out?_

_Not as well as I'd hoped._

He held up a brightly painted blue finger.

_Gwen is going to have a field day, you know._

_No chance_.

Owen grinned as he pulled out a pair of gloves from under the seat.

Ianto chuckled.

_Gloves, in spring. No, Gwen will never notice that._

_Oh, right… Maybe I'll just shove my hands in my pockets_.

Ianto smirked as they pulled out of the garage, and a faint smile still lingered by the time the reached the hub.

_If you say one word…_

Owen growled menacingly as they descended the stairs.

_As if Gwen would care about another body alteration that you got whilst in a drunken frenzy._

Ianto glanced at Owen's earring, and thought of the tattoo of a lady bug on the other mans ankle.

Owen glared at Ianto.

_If I wasn't so considerate and you weren't blind, I'd push you down the stairs right now._

_Thanks for letting your conscience guide you to the right actions_.

They parted ways, Owen down into the autopsy bay and Ianto to the kitchen.

_Oh morning, love._

Gwen looked up briefly from report she was reading as Ianto walked past her.

_Morning. Coffee?_

_Yes thanks._

Ianto returned with Gwen's special mug, adorned with roses and an ornate rose handle.

_Ta._

She didn't look up this time at all, and missed the handle altogether. She clutched at the air absently a few times before Ianto carefully guided her hand and the cup together.

_You right?_

A quite grunt was his only reply.

_Can you hear me, Gwen?_

She muttered to herself, her eyes glued to the page. Ianto furrowed his brow momentarily before he pipped up again.

_Owen had a drunken escapade last night. You should ask to see his finger nails. They are blue._

_Oh._

It was unlike Gwen to not listen to anyone. Usually, and irritatingly, she would hang on every single word. Ianto decided to have some fun.

_I've decided to run away and become a monk in __New Zealand__. They wear capes of possum fur and I have already ordered a three hundred dollar suit to be made of camel hide for my initiation ceremony._

_I'll get right on it._

A snort shocked Ianto. Tosh and Owen were standing behind him, Tosh was hiding a smile and Owen was trying to look angry.

_You said you weren't going to tell._

Owen's arms were crossed and his hands tucked behind them.

_I didn't really._

_True._

Owen's reply was surprisingly reasonable.

_But that's not the point._

_What else can you say that she won't hear?_

A tiny devious smile crossed Tosh's face.

Owen shrugged, and indicated that she should have the first go. Tosh tiptoed closer to Gwen.

_I'm having an affair with Rhys. Since Christmas._

_Sure Ianto. Not a problem._

The three of them looked at one another, silent laughs slowing wracking their bodies.

_What can be that interesting? What's she reading?_

Tosh slipped behind Gwen's chair and peered over her shoulder.

_It's a letter. From Jack._

Gwen suddenly jumped, coffee spilling over her hand.

_Good God! What are you doing here?_

She snapped the file closed.

_What are you reading, Gwen?_

_It's a letter… From Jack._

_Clearly. Where's it from? Why are you reading it now?_

Owen and Tosh closed in on Gwen, eager for information, while Ianto took a step back. He was surprised, and perhaps scared, but completely conflicted. Part of him wanted bad news, some sort of repercussion for leaving Torchwood, another wanted to hear he was going somewhere else, never to return.

_Well, uhm… It's from, now, I guess. I mean he's with the Doctor, so he could be anywhere in time, but it's dated yesterday at the top of the page. That's when I got it._

_And?_

_He says he's coming home. Soon._

**A/N – Sorry it's been a while, been holidaying in New Zealand. If anyone had any preferences to how fast they want Jack to come back, please let me know, I'm having a hard time deciding on what to do in the mean time. Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, there has been a considerable lack of muse – the dreaded writers block hit me. Thanks for reading so far, hope you keep tuned in, things are about to get rather interesting. **

_Give that to me._

Owen snatched the letter from Gwen's hand and skimmed over it.

_Bastard. _

Tosh edged closer.

_What?_

Owen crumpled the paper in his fist, biting down hard on his lip.

_It's addressed to Gwen, because he knows she will try and keep everyone calm, and get all excited about him coming back._

_He's right, isn't he Gwen. You are going to make it like he went on holiday, or that he HAD to go. But he just left us Gwen. With no reason, no warning. He chose the Doctor over us. Don't make a big deal out of it Gwen. We clearly don't mean much to him at all._

Ianto turned and shuffled towards the archives.

_Ianto!_

Gwen made to follow him but Owen stopped her by jutting his arm across her chest.

_Don't bother. Really, Gwen. He doesn't need it._

She frowned but took a step back.

_What does he do down there? _

Tosh peered down the stairs as Ianto disappeared around the corner.

_I mean, all you need to do down there is file, and they are all labelled with computer or hand written labels. It's hardly a rough surface he can run his fingers over. _

Owen eyed her incredulously.

_We work in __**Torchwood. **__Alien technology, remember? There is a machine that can read writing out loud. _

Tosh blushed furiously and walked back to her desk, all of them forgetting for the moment the excitement of Jack's return.

_So, what's this I hear about blue finger nails?_

Gwen grinned sweetly.

_Oh bugger off. _

Owen stalked off towards autopsy, leaving a giggling Gwen to lean furiously over the rail hoping for a glance of his finger tips.

Ianto trailed his fingers over a pile of folders that he had placed aside for new labels. Leaning up against the cold brick wall, he sighed, and then slid down to the floor, his knees pressed to his chest.

A file tipped over the edge of the cabinet and fluttered to the floor. With a tiny smile, Ianto rocked forwards and picked it up, the thick card outer wobbling audibly. He smiled wider.

This is what he loved. Order. He had order now. After Owen had found the text reader, Ianto went straight back to the archives. There was something about the sweet smell of reams of paper shrouded in waxed cardboard dividers and the familiar creak of metal of a filing cabinet drawer opening that was comforting.

Order appealed to Ianto's meticulous nature. Everything had a place to be in, and it was there. Perfectly in line with all the others of the same type. But - and there was always a but - something that was unique, that couldn't be filed, still had a place.

That's why Ianto had loved Jack. He was so unique, so different from everything else that when his perfectly ordered world fell down around him, Jack sort of just… fit.

When Jack left, his space stayed empty. It didn't need refilling with something else, though Ianto was certainly occupied with other things.

_Ianto?_

_Yes?_

Ianto put down the file he was holding and the reader machine, cocking his ear to hear the tiny voice that echoed through the archives. Footsteps followed and were accompanied by the sweet wafting smell of fresh cinnamon.

_Are you all right down here? _

Tosh's timid voice rang in Ianto's ears. He smiled at her distant and cautious caring.

_Yes, I'm fine, thanks._

_Gwen made a run for doughnuts, would you like one?_

_I'd love one._

He sprang happily from the floor and followed the alluring aroma. Tosh softly guided his wrist to the plate and he stabbed a warm treat with his finger. Greedily, Ianto shoved the whole doughnut in his mouth at once.

_Uhm, Ianto?_

He slowed chewing and tried to swallow.

_Mmmhmggh?_

Tosh faltered.

_Do you mind if I ask you something personal? It's about Jack._

Ianto made a tremendous effort to finish his mouthful, but still couldn't quite manage.

_Shhooreee._

Finally he could speak.

_Have a seat._

He reached under the desk and dragged out an old, dusty, swivel chair and offered it to Tosh. It squeaked loudly in the thick silence. Ianto stood, waiting for her to start talking, but she didn't. Tosh wanted a more serious and honest talk, so Ianto pulled out his own chair, a short wooden stool which made his knees bend if he wanted to sit properly.

_Ianto, do you hate Jack?_

Ianto frowned. If he could see Tosh's face it would not have given him any clue as to what she was trying to get at. Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly apart, emotionless as if she were looking at her computer screen.

_Why… Why do you want to know?_

_I want to know if it will be a problem. This is Jack's home. He's our boss. We have to work for him. You know that we all know about you and Jack, but we can't take sides. We don't even know what happened. You are both our friends, but we know that Jack won't get the warm welcome he is probably expecting. He did just leave us too, Ianto. _

_I know. _

_So? Do you hate him? I mean, you have the right to and I would…_

Ianto interrupted her.

_I don't hate him. _

Tosh blinked behind her glasses.

_But I don't think I love him either. He did leave us. He likes the Doctor better than us, and there is nothing we can do. _

_That doesn't mean he doesn't care for us. I mean, he is coming back._

_Is he? How do we know that something else won't come up?_

_He is in a time machine, can't he chose to come back at any time?_

Ianto straightened up in his chair, raising his chin.

_Then why hasn't he come back before now?_

_Why don't you ask him when he gets back?_

_I will. But don't you want to know too?_

Tosh leaned back in her chair, very unlike her, and took off her glasses.

_Jack is going to flip when he sees you. _

_Good thing I won't be able to see him them._

Ianto smiled sombrely.

_That will just be one issue, I'm sure. _

_So, what are you going to do?_

_About what?_

_About Jack! Ianto. _

Her voice suddenly hardened.

_I don't know what I'll do, Tosh. Maybe everything has changed between us, maybe nothing at all. If you haven't noticed Tosh, I can handle myself with out his help now. I don't depend on him. Maybe I have had to change some things, but that isn't just because of Jack. _

Tosh tutted and Ianto picked up on her correction.

_Yeah, I threw the mug because Jack left, but as soon as he left earth he was the last thing on my mind. I made a problem. I worked through it. I didn't need Jack to sit behind me and tell me everything will be ok, and that he will take care of me. For the first time in my life I have done something by myself, getting help when I want it, not when some one thinks I need it. _

He stood up and took a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaning his sugary fingers.

_If, I mean when, Jack gets back, we will figure it all out. _

_Ianto. Please. _

Tosh got up and grabbed his shoulder.

_Thanks for the doughnuts, Tosh._

_Don't get mad at me, Ianto. I just want to know where we stand. It's not all about you._

_I know that. It's all about Jack. _

_Don't say that._

_Why not?_

The archives filled with the familiar mechanical grinding of the TARDIS.

_See? It's always about him._


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N – Thanks for all the great reviews, they filled me with a warm enthusiasm to keep writing. Thanks for you patience while I write this. But be forewarned, I'm new to writing emotional stuff, so if you have any thoughts on how to make it better, please let me know. Enjoy!**

Tosh dropped the plate of doughnuts on the table with a crack as she swung out of her chair.

_Coming?_

She sounded breathless with excitement.

_No. I have to finish filing. _

_But you're always filing._

Tosh breathed half-heartedly as she tripped up the stairs to the sound of her returning boss and the subsequent screeches of joy from Gwen.

Ianto shrugged inwardly. He _wanted _to want to run to Jack, join in with the excitement and joy. But no part of him seemed to draw him towards the staircase. So he continued to file.

The cog door echoed loudly, gears grinding and sliding stiffly into their metal teeth. The unmistakable American twang of Captain Jack Harkness's voice filled the air, already buzzing with excitement.

_Oh God! You're back!_

_Well well. If I'd known I was your God I mightn't have left._

Ianto could hear the cheesy grin in his constantly sexual speech. Breathing in the familiar scent of crisp cardboard, Ianto tuned out of the conversation echoing above his head.

_Harkness, you bastard. Where the fuck have you been?_

_Nice to see you too, Owen. _

_Oh shut up Jack. Answer his question._

Gwen's usually sickly sweet voice and attitude hardened, and the urge for her to slap him surged through her. She succumbed to the feeling and her hand cracked into his cheek.

Jack smiled, disheartened but accepting. He knew he deserved that one.

_Can't a guy get two feet in the door before being accosted and interrogated about his whereabouts?_

_You bet your time-travelling arse you can't._

Jack gave a breathy half chuckle.

_No. You're right, Jack. Come in. Have a seat. Once we have calmed down, I'm sure you'll tell us what we need to know. _

Tosh's reasonable voice entered the mêlée.

_Thankyou, Toshiko. _

He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, almost completely drowning her in his coat, and kissed her cheek. Standing up, he looked around.

_Uh, before we begin, can we get some coffee?_

And uncomfortable silence descended.

_Where is Ianto?_

Tosh volunteered timidly.

_I think he is still in the archives. Maybe he didn't hear you come, you know how absorbed he can get_. _And it's so separated from the rest of the Hub. _

Jack interrupted her broken spiel.

_Well you folks make yourselves comfortable in the conference room and I'll get Ianto. _

Before Jack had even finished his sentence he had swooped down the metal grates that made up the staircase down to the concrete caverns that were the archives.

Ianto continued to listen to the word scanning device.

_Blowfish, sports car – incident report._

He flipped the file over in his hand, thumbing the index tab at the top and reached for the nearest filing cabinet. A tall stack of old empty files sat on top of the equally old and empty cabinet, which Ianto placed one hand on, keeping in his mind that he had to put the files away. He slid the blowfish report into the drawer in one fluid motion, his mind filled with memos to himself about other files.

Ianto was so immersed in his comfortable, ordered world that he didn't hear the tentatively descending footsteps. Jack watched the perfectly dressed man in front of him, his heart missing two beats.

Jack took a hesitant step closer. A fleeting thought flitted through Jack's humming mind - What was the white strip wrapping around the back of Ianto's head?

He swallowed hard and took the final silent steps towards Ianto, his hand creeping up – reaching for the younger mans shoulder.

_I'm back._

Ianto's shoulders involuntarily contracted in mild surprise. He slowly put down the files he was holding and turned around even slower.

_So you are, Jack. _

The poorly lit room cast shadows over Ianto's expressionless face. Jack took a step back. The pure white bandages across Ianto's face screamed out in the dark.

Ianto could hear the air grow quiet, the silence punctuated with Jack's raspy breaths.

Neither man spoke.

Jack couldn't find a word to explain his confusion. What was wrong? Where was his welcome? What happened to Ianto?

Ianto waited for a moment, before turning back to his filing. He picked up the word scanner to identify the new file.

_Canary Warf, back up hard copy._

The bottom drawer squeaked in protest as Ianto opened it, slipped the file into place and slid it closed again.

_You're still standing there, Jack. Are you going to say something? Or are you expecting me to?_

_I.. I don't know. _

_Clearly._

_I can't even see you, Ianto. What's covering your face?_

_There's a bandage covering my face. I can't see you, Jack. _

Shuffling footsteps were followed by the light switch flicking on. The hum and clink of an old bulb warming up covered Jack's words catching in his throat.

_Yeah. I see that now. _

Jack hastily recovered. Ianto turned around so they were standing face to face. To Jack it felt as though they were staring straight at one another, Ianto's face was pointing directly towards his.

_The others are probably waiting for you, sir. Can I help you?_

Ianto politely inquired.

_I came to ask you for coffee…_

_Not a problem sir. That's what I'm here for. _

The suited young man brushed past Jack towards the kitchen.

_Ianto._

His voice shook as he grasped Ianto's hand violently, turning him around to face him again. Carefully, his fingers crept along Ianto's jaw line, across his cheeks, fingering the bandage.

_What happened to you?_

He found the edge and softly peeled away the dressing, revealing two red stained eyes shrouded in puffy and purple skin. Jack's eyes watered at the pain he was seeing.

_What did this to you?_

_Doctors, sir._

_W-why?_

_I had a reaction to some of the anti-inflammatory and –infection drugs. Apparently eyes are a sensitive area for needles. _

Jack's lips thinned, his mind racing.

_Can you see at all?_

_Yes, sir. I can see the red light above your head at the top of the stair well. _

The pain was too much to keep enclosed any more. Jack had missed Ianto too much. He wrapped himself tightly around Ianto, tears forming in his eyes, the salty taste already on the back of his tongue.

_I missed you, Ianto. _

_I'm sure you did. _

_Did you miss me?_

_I'm not sure. I didn't really have time to miss you. _

Jack recoiled slightly. This was not the welcome he expected.

_Why not?_

_Why did you leave, Jack? You just left. _

_I said I would come back. _

_But you still went away. You're back now, we knew you would be. You always do. But I had to do some adjusting before you came back this time. _

_You hate me. _

_No. _

_Well you certainly don't love me. _

_You don't love me either. _

Ianto stepped out of Jack's embrace.

_Can you tell me what happened? _

_I told you. You left. I was angry and it was a stupid accident. On a related note, your favourite coffee mug is broken. I threw most of it away but there are still parts of it lodged in my optic nerve. _

The cold efficiency in Ianto's voice cut into Jack, but he could almost hear it softening.

_I'm sorry. It was my fault._

_It was both of our faults. And it doesn't matter anymore. Now it's your turn. What happened to you?_

His voice was softer, even caring now. Ianto stepped back into Jack's arms and cautiously pulled Jack closer. Jack melted into his lover's arms and began to cry.


	11. Chapter 11

Owen tapped his pen impatiently on the table, while Gwen ran her finger absently around the rim of her empty coffee cup from earlier that morning. Even Tosh's fingers were occupied with the squat remote control for the lights in the conference room. She depressed the buttons randomly, entertaining herself with the soft click it made. Simple pleasures like time wasting were rare for her, and she revelled in any chance she got to sit in a content silence with her friends. But Jack and Ianto still hadn't joined the rest of them, and it was slowly irritating the three more and more.

_Should we go look for them?_

Gwen wondered out loud, the images in her mind telling her no.

_They'll come when they're done._

Owen raised his eyebrow at Tosh's reply.

_When they are ready. Jesus Owen, don't think like that._

Tosh recovered quickly as she shook her head at Owen's immaturity, but secretly smiling. They all knew very well it was a reasonable thought to have, but it was usually only Owen who had the distasteful disposition to actually say it.

_I don't want to sit around waiting for hours while they 'kiss and make up'. Unlike them, I actually have things to do. _

His thoughts wandered back to the computer game hidden in the backup files on his computer.

_Oh shush. The whole of time and space doesn't revolve around you._

Smiles crossed all of their faces. They returned to their solo existences, biding their time until the peaceful monotony of their day was broken by their annoyingly cheerful and colourful boss.

At that moment, their cheerful and colourful boss was anything but that. His face was grey and ashen, smudges of half-wiped tears glowing eerily in the harsh artificial light of the kitchen. Ianto stood facing the coffee machine as he handed Jack a handkerchief, extending his arm straight back, the rest of his body unmoving. He took it, and for one of the few times in his life, he was embarrassed.

_I've spent years trying not to cry. _

Ianto picked up on one word.

_Years?_

Jack sniffled loudly as he nodded.

_Too many years. Years that haven't happened yet, years that never will happen now. Years that I've seen too many times. _

He paused for an ugly moment as a wave of emotion threatened to rock him again.

_I hate time travel._

The words spat out of his mouth, as though he was trying to get rid of the taste of something tart off his tongue.

_What's changed?_

_Everything. _

Ianto turned around with a tray of steaming coffees, nonplussed.

_But that's who The Doctor is. That's who you are. You're built from time travel. _

_I know. And I hate it._

Not knowing what to say, Ianto shot a sympathetic smile from the corner of his mouth, hoping Jack would catch it, and he left the room.

Hesitantly, Jack followed. He wrapped his coat around him tighter, protecting himself, feeling more secure than he had in over a decade. Following the strong and delicious aroma of Ianto's coffee, Jack entered the conference room. He muttered to himself.

_They all look the same. How can it be ten years? It seems like hundreds, yet here they are. Glowing in all the magnificence of youth. _

_You all right, Jack?_

Gwen immediately honed in on him after she took her coffee from Ianto. A tiny splash of colour had found its way back to his cheeks, but it drained again as he started at the sound of being addressed.

_Yeah, Jack. You look like shit. You weren't that bad when you came in. _

Gwen, Owen and Tosh exchanged gossiping and warning glances. The security Jack had felt a moment ago ebbed away, leaving the dreadful feeling of vulnerability in the pit of his gut.

_Thanks, guys. You're warm and friendly comments just tickle me with support._

_Feeling unsupported, are we Jack? Isolated? In the dark?_

Owen growled, revealing more about his own feelings than he intended.

_Sorry. _

Jack whispered, staring at the shiny, ebony black table. A stunned silence shook through the room. Jack's apology dripped with honesty, begging to be truly forgiven. Here was a man that none of the other Torchwood employee's had ever met. All his defences were down, thrown to the ground and trampled upon.

_What for?_

They all asked, some out loud, others to themselves.

_For leaving you unsupported and isolated and keeping you in the dark. But it was better that way. If I had all the time of this world and the next, I couldn't explain. Believe me, I tried. _

_Hey? You've tried to explain? To us? When?_

It was like story time at the public library, Gwen, Owen, Tosh and Ianto all sitting eagerly around Jack, their storyteller.

_Three years ago. I came back. _

_Woah. Hang on. Who's years are we talking about? Ours or yours?_

Gwen interrupted, her hands blocking everyone else's eye contact as she thrust them out in front of her, physically demanding an explanation.

_Mine. I don't know when it was here. It didn't go very well, so I retconned you. _

All the eyes watching him widened with indignant disapproval.

_Hey, we all agreed it was for the best. It's not like I spiked your coffee and slipped out the back exit. _

The others relaxed in their chairs and Jack blinked back tears. Owen rolled his eyes. Sensitivity was _not _going to get the better of him today. Or ever.

_So are you going to tell us or what? You can't keep on looking at us with those ridiculous puppy dog browns and make it out that you're all high and mighty, protecting the rest of us from the awful truth. Either man up and shut up, or spill it, mate. _

Jack bit his lip, running his tongue worriedly along the inside of his cheek. As irritating as Owen was, he had a point. He chose to spill it. Cryptically.

_I have time on my hands._

Four faces with furrowed brows looked back at him expectantly. Tosh tipped her head, trying to think on a Jack-like tangent.

_Time on your hands like you have more time than you know what to do with? Or time on your hands like Lady Macbeth, with blood on your hands?_

_Both._

Jack replied simply, his bottom lip quivered and his chin shook.

_I have more time to think about the things I destroyed. Or as you so succinctly put it, I have more time than I know what to do with because I have blood on my hands._

_You still aren't making sense, you know that, Jack. You're babbling._

_Babbling's good for you. You can say what you need to say with out really saying it._

Ianto gulped his coffee loudly. When he set it down, he spoke in a low, controlled voice.

_I think I understand._

Four pairs of eyes clasped onto Ianto, bewildered.

_You were with The Doctor. You messed around with something in time, this either has done damage to the past, or more likely, you've done something that will affect the future. And you have to just sit and wait for it to come. Biding your time. Stuck here. With us. Knowing what is coming. _

_That's what you said last time. _

_I was right then too, wasn't I?_

Jack wiped his face with his collar and sniffed, his eyes shining bright with tears again. A cold connection linked Ianto and Jack in a silent understanding.

_Yeah. More than you know. _

_What's that supposed to mean? _

Owen interrupted the unspoken conversation, airing the question Gwen and Tosh had also been wondering.

_It's what he is imagining that's more accurate than he can say. _

_I can say it._

_**Ianto, don't.**_

Jack begged, mouthing his words - not to be seen - but willing Ianto to be able to hear his silent prayer. He didn't.

_It's your fault. It's all your fault, isn't it, Jack. _

Jack dropped his face to his hands, avoiding catching the eye of anyone in the room. From beneath the muffled sobs, they could hear Jack whisper –

_It is. _


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - Thanks for all the reviews they have been really supportive, same goes to every one who has story alerts on this story. I am REALLY sorry at how slow I am to update, but I'm not a very consistent writer and I've had yr 12 exams to get through, and I've found it hard to decide what direction this story should take. Thanks again for all your patience, I hope you like it. **

_For God's sake, Jack. What did you do?_

Gwen shoved her mug on the table, a mixture of anger, fear and sympathy causing her to shake under her suddenly too hot leather jacket. Her mind raced with possibilities, not of what he had done - there was no way she could begin to comprehend that – but with the consequences of what he had done. Would they all die? Would they be imprisoned by some alien tormentor? Would time itself be torn apart and their existences wrenched asunder?

_I messed up. Big time. _

_Clearly. Stop drawing this out more than you have to, Harkness. You've kept us in the dark in regards to too many things, and we are sick of it!_

If Tosh had not been softly holding onto Owen's arm, he would have punctuated his short spiel by slamming his hands on the table. His bottom jaw quivered with repressed anger, and even more repressed fear. Every time that Jack had with held information from them, there had been an horrific twist that came out before there was time to explain. Owen couldn't help but feel that if Jack would tell them sooner about each impending apocalypse, they would be able to help more. Then maybe Jack wouldn't have to resort to sacrificing himself for the world all over again. This was a tried and successful method of beating all the odds the rift could throw them, but this time Jack looked like there was no chance of survival. Like he had already had his last minute chance and blew it. And then gone back in time and blew it again.

_I'm not trying to draw this out, Owen._

Jack eyes flashed briefly from their soft blues to a harsh, icy colourlessness, and then returned to their sombre aqua.

_I haven't gotten this part right before. I can never explain it the way I want to. _

_Then don't try to. Just tell us what happened. Don't justify it. Just give us the facts._

Ever the voice of reason, Tosh's calm tone relaxed everybody. Tosh knew that Jack would hide behind his tough man façade, pretending that he could fix it or that no one else could. Gwen would push too hard to information and Jack would be more reluctant to tell. Owen would just yell and sulk alternatively, an equally unhelpful attitude that would rile Jack even more. Usually this would lead to Jack declaring that Owen was not brave or man enough to do half the thing Jack could. Jack needed a clear direction. Once he knew what he had to do, he could do it. And Tosh was usually the one who gave it to him.

_I don't know if I can separate them._

_You can. Just pick somewhere to start. _

Ianto's wavered faith in Jack took a back seat to the immediate concern. Jack needed to believe that Ianto, and indeed everyone else, had confidence in him. The blame for almost everything that had gone wrong at Torchwood could be laid on Jack. While Ianto sat motionless, he could hear with hypersensitivity. Jack's laboured breathing, Gwen nervously licking her bottom lip, Owen gritting his teeth, Tosh fiddling nonplussed with her necklace. These tiny sounds created a cacophony of tense noises, slowly filling Ianto with a numb irritation. Usually it would be Gwen who would come to the emotional rescue of everyone, but she was characteristically assuming that all the weight of the problem lay on her and she was busy drowning in this overwhelmingly non-existent responsibility.

Currently, Ianto was the only one in control of his feelings.

He slid his arm silently across the perfectly polish table and softly fumbled for Jack's sleeve. Finding it quickly, Ianto crossed his other arm underneath his own, supporting his hand that was now holding Jack. For a brief second, Jack stopped breathing. It was as though he was scared of touching him now, and he recoiled slightly at the soft alien touch. Jack's whole body shook as he finally exhaled. He clawed at Ianto's hand for more support as he prepared to speak.

_The day I left, the second I stepped through those blue wooden doors – it started then. The Doctor, he was alone again. I'm the only person in history that he knows that will always be here. I'm a fixed point in time. And so is he… _

Jack tapered off for a moment, slipping away from the conversation he was leading. Ianto nudged back with a quick supportive squeeze.

_He's always there. I'm always here. Even when we are both in the same time and place we never really get to __**be**__ together. _

Gwen and Tosh raised their eyebrows simultaneously.

_Not like that. We're soldiers who met in the battlefields of a war no one else remembers. It's something that was so alien, that we only survive the memories because we see something similar in each other. We are new to being different. And this time, he was new to being alone. I'd already been through it. _

He wiped his eyes, and his resolve strengthened.

_The Doctor was only alone once before. And that was after the Time War. He was so consumed by what happened, he didn't really feel the loneliness. Well, he did, but in the way where you suddenly realise that you're always going to be lonely. It isn't the same as actually being alone for so long that you forget what it was to … __**not**__ be alone. _

Gwen touched her fingers to her mouth.

_Is that what you felt? Before you came here?_

Her voice shook with a horror that couldn't be explained. She knew that she couldn't comprehend what Jack was talking about, and that is what scared her the most. Of all the new concepts she had learned at Torchwood, the sheer amount of time that Jack talked about was one should couldn't even begin to grapple with.

_Yes. And when I am here. But not always. This isn't the point. _

Jack straightened up, tucking his elbows down so his shoulders sat in perfect posture, but keeping Ianto's hand on his.

_The Doctor can't be alone. He is one of those people who the universe would die without, and cry if he were sad. Our universe is a glass half full with the Doctor. Time falls apart without him. It's started to now. _

A rift monitor beeped angrily in the background.

_It will start here. Where there are already cracks. _

Jack stayed perfectly straight as Tosh rushed to her station. Her violent tapping could be heard clearly in the conference room.

_Uh, guys? You'll probably want to see this._

Owen and Gwen almost raced each other to get out of the room. Ianto stayed back for a minute, wishing for the first time since Jack had left that he could see his lover's face and examine his fine features, just to figure out what he was thinking. He held back a chuckle as he considered for a moment actually _feeling _Jack's face with his fingers, like they do in films. As soon as he rejected the thought, it came back to him again, and he seriously considered it. He slid his hand up Jack's tense arm, to his even more tense shoulder, then back down again.

There would be nothing more to learn from Jack's expression. It would be just as tense as the rest of him, and would only make Jack agonize even more with the strange new behaviour. Ianto pushed his chair back and walked slowly towards the others, who were now crowded around Tosh's computers. He paused at the door to look back at Jack, who was still sitting as erect as ever. Before Ianto had the chance to turn back, more sirens sounded and Owen ran back into the darkened conference room, pushing Ianto against the door.

_What have you done?_

Owen had never sounded more frightened and incredulous before, but managed to sound accusatory at the same time. Jack dipped his head for a second.

_I told you. It's my fault. We can't exist with out the Doctor. _

_Where is the fucking Doctor then!_

Jack looked up at Owen with huge round eyes.

_He's dead. _

He gulped hard and his words ripped from his throat.

_I killed him. _

Tosh's glasses dropped to the floor, shattering the sudden silence.

_You're kidding. _

_I hope so. I know how hard it is to kill the Doctor and I didn't see him die. But… even he couldn't have survived that long in the void. _


	13. Chapter 13

The walls trembled around them, flecks of concrete spitting down from the walls covering the hub in a fine film of grey dust. That in itself was not unusual. But there were too many walls. Gwen blinked, utterly bewildered. It was worse than the eye trick puzzle books where you go crossed eyed and pictures appear, but in an impossible space. Tosh picked her spent glasses from the floor, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that came with the uncertainty of the moment. Both Owen and Jack closed their eyes, silently pleading that the world would magically right itself in a few seconds, whilst knowing there was no chance of that happening. Of course, it was always worth trying, Owen thought.

Ianto was the only one undisturbed by the sudden invasion of another Hub, opaque and slightly to the left of the real Hub. He was almost excited at the prospect of something interesting happening, the shaking surroundings masked his quiver of anticipation. Jack was back and things were happening. Things had almost righted themselves, in the mind of Ianto Jones.

_Shit, Harkness. You couldn't have given us a little more warning?_

_Owen…_

Gwen warned the medic, eager for constructive input rather than aimless cursing. Ever practical and ready to mend things, Gwen guided the conversation.

_What can we do, Jack?_

He shrugged. Irritation flooded through Gwen. She couldn't stand being stonewalled.

_Any clues as to what we can do to stop the impending doom of earth?_

The captain shrugged again.

_Anything at all? Helpful pointers from the last time you and the Doctor saved the universe?_

_I have the TARDIS?_

Jack offered his scrap of information offhandedly.

_Handy. Just what we need. An alien spaceship that none of us can drive._

Owen's input, as always, was less than constructive.

_Jack and I know how it works._

Everyone looked at Tosh, flabbergasted.

_Sort of. _

When her reply was a wall of blank and wondrous stares, she continued.

_There have been theoretical schematics of the TARDIS floating around Torchwood for years, and Jack's been in it and managed to correct and add to what we had. For a group of people, it's actually quite user friendly. _

_So, does that mean we can go back in time, so we actually have a chance of figuring this out? The walls are closing in, people. If you hadn't noticed. Literally._

The short sentence following Gwen's suggestion startled Ianto.

_Literally? The walls are actually closing in? _

An awkward silence followed. They had all forgotten, even Jack, that Ianto had missed what they assumed was obvious.

_It looks like the Hub from another time is superimposed into our Hub…_

Tosh hesitantly supplied. Another, even more awkward pause filled with guilt of condescension.

_Then we can't use the TARDIS to give us more time. The walls of time are collapsing, we won't be protected from it anywhere. Anywhen.. _

Ianto cocked his head to the side, trying to decide if 'anywhen' could pass as a logical and acceptable word. It would have to do. Language was for communicating a message, and as long as the message was conveyed, Ianto figured – screw the dictionary.

_So where does that leave us?_

Gwen looked desperately around the group.

_Screwed, as always. Only worse._

A wave of angry glares passed over Owen, even Ianto threw a scowl towards him, albeit slightly to the right. Owen continued slightly perturbed.

_Moving on. Do we know if the rift machine could have any effect on this… temporal shift?_

_It's unlikely. The rift machine is too unstable. It would probably speed things up. _

Ianto straightened his tie and tugged at his cuffs as he spoke.

_It seems to me the only way we have a chance is with the Doctor. _

Jack's shoulders sagged in frustration.

_We KNOW! _

Ianto refused to see Jack's reaction as disapproving, even though Owen and Gwen had made that tiny leap in judgment. Tosh, however, followed Ianto's train of thought.

_I think I know where you are going, Ianto. What we need to do is get the Doctor. _

_But he is dead!_

Jack's dark reply came muffled from through his sleeves, his voice a mixture of guilt and anger. No one seemed to understand him, that the Doctor could not be the solution. He repeated himself.

_The Doctor. Is. Dead. As in, he can't help. Ever._

_God, and I thought I was the depressing one in the group._

Again, Owen's insight went unappreciated. He was getting more than irked that no one allowed him his smooth transition from a self absorbed, throw away comment to something that would be helpful.

_Things have survived in the void before, though, right? Like the Daleks… I mean, the Doctor is supposed to be stronger than them, so if the Daleks can survive for eons in the void, shouldn't the Doctor?_

A short, thoughtful silence fell over the Hub before Gwen optimistically piped up.

_I think that is the most intelligent thing that you have EVER said. He's right. It must be possible to survive in the void, it's possible to get there, and it's possible to get out of it. _

_Only in a ship. Or a TARDIS. It would be like being stuck in space, a vacuum, but with less in it. It's impossible._

_For God's sake, Jack. We are trying to sort out a HUGE problem that apparently YOU caused, and all you can do is stonewall us! According to you he is in perfect health, other than being stuck in between dimensions. Yes, that's a bit of a pickle to be in, but it's the only hope we have. So unless you have anything more __**helpful **__to add to this crisis meeting, shut the hell up._

Gwen glowered as she towered over the Captain, who had wrenched himself out of his self pity long enough to look her half heartedly in the eyes. It was this particular moment that a distracting thought crossed his mind – it was really hard to look at both of some one's eyes, you can only focus on one of them, thus rendering the entire cliché of looking into someone's eyes completely redundant. It just couldn't happen.

_Impossible. _

He whispered a response to his ill timed epiphany, but to everyone else in the room it sounded like he was being contrite and difficult.

Gwen audibly growled.

_What?_

Both Jack and Gwen spoke the same word simultaneously, but with scathingly different inflections. Jack was mystified at Gwen's hostility, not realising that he had spoken out loud. Gwen was ready to tear his tongue from his mouth with her fingernails, with every ill intention she could conceive being expressed in her single word.

They both began a new sentence, to justify and explain themselves, but they were interrupted by a calming force.

_If I may, drag you two back a reality. We should spread our efforts. Gwen, we have a lead that could help us, why don't you, Tosh and Owen work with the TARDIS and see if there is a way to get into the void. We can worry about how to find the Doctor there later. I'll stay with Jack…_

Ianto paused as he thought of the second half of his suggestion.

…_And see if there are any other avenues we can pursue._

_That… sounds like a good idea._

Gwen breathed out slowly, relaxing. She mouthed a thankyou as she walked out, quickly followed by a frustrated Owen and an appeased Tosh.

_You know Ianto couldn't see your clever lips soundlessly moving, don't you?_

Dissent between Gwen and Owen flared up as they stomped towards their newly acquired spaceship.

The conference room was dark, and it was just Jack and Ianto.

_Thanks for sticking up for me. I really –_

_That's not what it was. Don't think I'm not as irked at you as the others are – I just know that there are better ways of dealing with it. _

_Oh. 'Cos I was really hoping for a little judgement support._

Jack's blue eyes softened, and his cheeks fell with the corners of his lips.

_Fishing for affection will get you nowhere at the moment. _

_Clearly._

The two men, former lovers, former haters, reunited colleagues, sat in a disjointed silence, their attitudes towards each other hardening. Their private conversation down in the archives mere minutes ago was hard to recall, but the desire of forgiveness and the desire to forgive lingered around their heads.

_Any new ideas?_

Ianto tried for a light hearted ignition of their work. It failed.

_No._

He tried again, hoping that Jack's humour was like an old car on a cold morning, needing a few twists of the key before the engine roared into life.

_I hope the others are having more luck. _

_Everybody in the universe has more luck than I do at the moment, Ianto. _

Jack's tone made it obvious he had returned to his psychological recluse of self absorption and pity, and that he was going to wallow and stew in it for a while longer.

Ianto decided that if that was what Jack wanted, he would help. He stood up and placed a supportive hand on Jack's cold shoulder.

_No Jack. I'm sure this monumental fuck-up had nothing to do with luck. It was purely your incompetence and idiocy that got us into this mess. _


	14. Chapter 14

_God, Owen! Can't you ever be helpful? It's always, "no, that won't work", "we shouldn't try that" "I'm a smart ass and can't help but be a sodding idiot." _

Gwen's shouting barely arrested the attention of Ianto, who sat on the couch below the black print of "Torchwood" on the wall. He hardly flinched when a metallic crash punctuated her verbal rampage, a side effect of her kicking the centre console of the TARDIS too hard, a sharp pain shocking her into silence.

_So, come crawling back to the doctor on your knees to ask for his help. Hmm. Should I help? You __**did**__ just call me a smart ass and a sodding idiot. _

_That's because you __**are.**__You're a doctor – didn't you sign a sodding oath that meant you have to treat people no matter how much they hate you? _

_Yeah… but since when did I stick to my promises. _

With a smirk that covered most of his face, Owen turned on the ball of his foot and strolled down the ramp out of the police box. He whispered to a stationary Ianto as he tripped past quickly.

_Look out, mate. She's on a war path. If we aren't careful she'll finish us off before this time collapse thing. _

With a short, understanding smile, Ianto rose from his silent resting place with a short term plan forming in his head.

Back in the TARDIS, Gwen screwed up her face and tried desperately to gain some sympathy from Tosh.

_You did call him a smart ass. _

Tosh gave in anyway, if only to stem the flow of expletives and curses aimed at her beloved medic from Gwen's razor lips. For Tosh, there had been at least one positive that came from helping Gwen out into the Hub – she leant four new Welsh curses designed purely to be said about males.

_Is it bleeding? _

Gwen held her face up and away from her unshod foot as if she might see a half rotten appendage oozing with a variety of flesh eating insects instead of her average, peach-pink toe. She sat awkwardly on the sofa Ianto had not too long ago vacated.

_It's red…ish. And intact. _

The only other woman in Torchwood tapped it with an old pen, reluctantly inspecting an almost completely uninjured toe.

_I'm quite certain that you'll live. _

_With or without a toe? I can't wear high heels without a big toe. I'll look horrible and I'll fall out! _

_You mean you don't fall out of them anyway?_

Owen muttered in passing, stirring his coffee as he walked towards his work area.

An indignant growl was the only reply his mildly injured colleague could muster.

_I __**hate**__ him. Don't you?_

_No. _

The light singsong tone of Tosh's reply contradicted Gwen's malevolence sharply, revealing to Gwen momentarily that her opinion was hers alone – not everyone else's. What she was going to do with that enlightenment was unclear, so she carried on as usual.

Tugging her stocking feet and boots on, Gwen ran through simple facts about the TARDIS, the rift and the void.

She was so lost in her repetitive thoughts that only the rich, earthy aroma of fresh coffee shook her back to the outside world.

Patient Tosh had been long gone from Gwen's company, but she had been replaced by another. Ianto stood in front of her, his face pointing slightly to her left, and offered Gwen her special mug filled with coffee - the elixir of life.

_Oh you're an angel, Ianto. Thank you. _

_No problem. It's my job. _

_You don't really think that's all you do here, do you?_

_Of course not – I do the filing too._

_Ianto…_

Her voice warbled warmly with an empty warning, hiding a secret agreement. That was all Ianto did now. Make coffee and file. It was sad, he used to be so… flexible in his tasks. He _could_ have done anything, he didn't, but he could have. Now he was stuck in permanent secretary mode.

_Are there still two hubs?_

_Huh?_

_The pan-dimensional shift projecting a hub of a different time slightly to the left of ours; is it still there?_

_Oh, well, sort of. It fades in and out. It's really unnerving._

_Well, then I'm glad I can't see it. Wouldn't want to be more unnerved than necessary at a time like this, would I?_

_I.. I guess that's a positive?_

Gwen was so unsure of what to say it frightened her. She couldn't have an opinion on what Ianto's attitude should be because she pitied him and wanted to support whatever _his_ opinion was. But what if he wasn't being serious and she just agreed to a scathingly sarcastic comment?

A soft chuckle was her reassurance that she hadn't offended… too badly.

_I found that vision is overrated. Who needs to see when every other sense fills in its space? _

_You don't miss it?_

_No. Not as much as I used to. Now I just find that when I _can _see lights or shadows it just confuses me._

Gwen smiled sadly to her self and patted Ianto on the knee.

_But my lack of vision isn't really high on the list of "Things to Worry About". Did you three come up with any ideas? _

The suffocating feeling that came hand in hand with impending doom wrapped around the Hub again, everyone within it's walls finding it harder to breathe.

_No. Not one. Though Tosh thinks she knows how to turn the TARDIS on. And where you might be able to input geographical and time coordinates. _

_Well, that's a start I suppose. _

_We really can't do this without Jack. He knows more about this stuff than all of us together._

She paused with a furrowed brow of frustration flashing across her features. Her hand smoothed her forehead out as she tried to light-heartedly show her dislike for that fact.

_Which is annoying. I hate relying on some one else so much._

_At least we have some one like him… who has the knowledge. You're right it is annoying._

_He's a tool. Clearly. But in more way than one. Come on you two, may as well use what we've got to save the universe – again. _

Owen emerged from the kitchen again with his second cup of coffee in five minutes. He was succinct, blunt and rude, but Gwen and Ianto knew he had a point. They needed to start to do **something.**

Jack was still in the conference room where they had left him, but now he was accompanied by Tosh and had a little more colour in cheeks. He was even talking animatedly to Tosh, the only other person in the know about the inner working of the TARDIS.

_...understand the TARDIS you have to understand the Doctor, and what he can do. _

He faltered as the other three entered. They sat down as the room settled into an awkward silence as Jack recollected his thoughts.

_I didn't make something clear before. When I said the world can't live without the Doctor, I meant it. _

_We gathered that._

_Shut up, Owen. _

Gwen and Owen glowered at each other across the table, making Jack slightly bewildered, his train of thought broken again. He frowned momentarily grasping for what he was going to say. Ianto prompted him.

_Can't live without the Doctor. _

_Right… _

Jack flashed a tiny smile to himself – not nearly as dazzling and cheerful as what he was capable, but it was reassuring for the rest of the team. He softly squeezed Ianto's shoulder distractedly, silently thanking him. But at the same time it let Ianto know that he hadn't forgotten about him.

_The Doctor is a seam of time. He helps to keep things together in their rightful place, make sure they happen, that sort of thing. He also keeps things separate. The TARDIS has the power to jump dimensions, but he doesn't use it. He's like border patrol; he knows that if things move from one universe to another, it could completely destroy all life. But because he entered the void, he's left a doorway – a blind spot or whole in the fence if we are still going with the border patrol analogy. Things can get through now, and what ever it is, it's eating at the walls of our dimension. _

_So all we have to do is close the door?_

_It's been done before. It's easy, isn't it? Well, I mean, from a pre-planning stage it's easy to __**say **__what we have to do. We just have to get the Doctor back into our universe, and the hole will close up behind him, like it did before. His going back through the void to here will sort of be reverse, 'cos there is no time in the void. He's either there, where he's not supposed to be and causing this problem, or not. _

It was rare moment when Owen actively suggested useful plans that didn't involve insults to others' abilities or intelligence or a high probability of injury to everyone. The whole team exchanged 'what do you think?' glances with one another, and they all began to slowly nod their heads in approval.

_Ok. That's the plan. Now, how do we do it?_


	15. Chapter 15

The problem with plans, Ianto found, was that they never worked the way you plan. That is only half the problem. Knowing what to do was easy, but the biggest and hardest task was actually doing it. And in there lay the inevitable occurrence of 'plans not going to plan'. The entire plan, one formulated by hardened time travellers and experienced adults, was a mere four words. Everyone agreed it was incredibly unprofessional, but it was admittedly foolproof. Anyone that could follow a logical thought could have implemented the plan, but the entire team was satisfied it could work. It was, after all, a very good plan.

_Bring back the Doctor. _

The official report, if they succeeded and paper work was actually required, would read much more professionally and padded out with technical phrases, but that was a task for Ianto after the morning coffees had been made and the universe mended. It was decided, however, that more detail was required. Two more words were added.

_Use TARDIS._

Channelling her former life as a police officer, Gwen had written a further detailed mission on a pearl white cardboard chart in her painstakingly slow and girlish lettering.

_We always used dot points at the station – it made it so much easier for every to get on the same page as everybody else._

She had even spent a good twenty minutes searching for an easel in storage before Ianto suggested she just rest it on a chair. In neat point form the plan was:

_Use TARDIS to get into Void_

_Find Doctor_

_Bring back Doctor_

_Wait till the universe rights itself and ask Doctor for other advice_

The team agreed that because it was incredibly simplistic, it became very easy from now on to break it into smaller jobs. Then they had to do those jobs, which in essence, was the complicated part they were dreading.

_Right. Tosh? Jack? Do we know how to work the TARDIS to get into the Void._

_No._

Gwen's upbeat and prim attitude fell like a lead anchor above a cartoon character.

_But we know where to start looking._

It was definitely not the information Gwen was seeking, but she took it in her stride, and motioned for Tosh to continue.

_We know how it works, mostly, we just don't know how to get into the Void. It's not a fix point in space or time, it's exactly the opposite. It doesn't exist in a time or a place, which is what the TARDIS needs to get somewhere. _

Jack interrupted.

_And it needs a HUGE amount of power. I'm talking a billion nuclear explosions worth of power. _

Coughs of shock exploded from the team, their mouths flung open into an unflattering and disbelieving "O".

_Well, you need that much to cross dimensions, but we don't need to get that far. And the TARDIS uses the Rift energy… Maybe we do have coordinates! The Rift allows things from different times and places to fall through, why not different dimensions? _

Again the team exchanged vague 'what do you think' glances, mixed with scepticism and a vague individual thought on what could be added.

_So how do we get into the rift?_

Ianto's coffee-soothed words prompted a deeper search for ideas in the deep recesses of each individual's mind.

_It's an unstable tear in space and time, so if we can sort of… park or stall right in the middle of it, that would be the void, wouldn't it? The void is the passage way through dimensions, like, I suppose a magic corridor that you read about in those weird books that have different lands behind each door. _

_What are you on about, Owen. Magic corridors? Please. _

_Gwen, I think it's a pretty reasonable assumption and analogy for the Void. It's a sound idea._

_Thankyou, Tosh. For making me look like an idiot again. _

_You don't need help with that._

**SLAP.**

Jack's hand shook the table with anger, but his face didn't match the action. His eyes were wild and flashing, his cheeks and lips pulled into an awkward, tense half-smile.

_We can do that. _

_What?_

_We can go to the middle of the rift. No mans land. Purgatory. The world between worlds. It's the void. It's the place in between. It's where you end up when you don't end up anywhere else._

Gwen and Owen looked seriously between each other. They began a short private conversation, but spoke as though they were one person, ignoring the other.

_He's gone mad. _

_Clearly insane._

_I mean, I knew he was mad all along, but this…_

_This is weird. And weird for Torchwood. _

_Which is really, really weird. _

They stopped and rubbed theirs chins, looking like identical and well rehearsed mimes, simultaneously shaking theirs heads.

_Guys? He's right. And there is so much evidence to prove it. We can only get energy readings from our side of the rift, and we have managed to get accounts of energy on the other side of it, but never is there anything about the __**middle. **__There is a distinct lack of… existence. It. Literally. Is. A void. _

Tosh squashed comfortably back into her chair, satisfied and her head tilted pleasantly and cockily to the side, her neat hair falling away from her chin.

_Has anyone else noticed that everything we've said today has been right and reasonable?_

The sudden scepticism from Ianto awkwardly halted the conversation, like a learner driver stalling a car.

_We're just getting really good at our jobs and our intuitive leaps are really accurate?_

_No one's that good at their jobs, Jack. Least of all us. I mean, we've never failed but it's never really been smooth sailing._

_So, what's wrong? Why are we suddenly right and fortuitously making progress?_

_It just… doesn't seem normal. Has the second hub made an appearance lately?_

_Uhhmm…_

Not a single member of the team could remember. Most people would have pinned one eye to the walls to make sure they were _exactly _where they should properly be, but as this was Torchwood, their minds acclimatised too quickly.

_So you just got used to it? You don't notice anymore? Isn't that a bit, I don't know, convenient? _

_Handy, isn't it?_

_You're missing the point. It fits too well! We live in a world where nothing ever goes to plan, nothing ever adds up or is fair. You're blind to it. You just can't see it._

The pain on Ianto's face was pulling at all his muscles in his cheeks, but contorted into a deep disgust with his final sentence.

_Don't you think…_

Gwen tried her 'sensitive and diplomatic' mode. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, and that it would come across horribly mean, but it was the only way for Ianto to let them continue their work, they were on a roll.

_Don't you think that it's a little ironic, cariad? That maybe you're… injury… has made you not look at this normally? _

Ianto's lips thinned till they were no more than a crease on his face.

_No._

The crease hardly moved as he spoke, and locked harder into place as Ianto slid his coffee cup off the table into his hand.

_No. I don't think that that is the case. But I can see… _

He snorted at his own accidental irony.

_I can sense that you all feel the same way, that I am someway impeded and my opinion is worth less that what it once did. I'll leave you to continue with your 'fortuitous, good progress'._

If Ianto was a man of less dignity, he would have stormed out of the bleak conversation, but really he strolled out; his chin up confidently high, as though he was trying to not look at the ground which was slowly crumbling away beneath him.

_He'll be fine._

Jack spoke without turning away from the table he was still leaning, hunching over, as though to stop someone timidly following Ianto to comfort him, but no one had. Excitement had over come Jack, his greed for the Doctor had over run him and had become the shining beacon on the horizon that would save him. He was fixated on it. Jack knew he had more to lose than any other living person. If they failed, if they couldn't fix up Jack's mess and the walls collapsed, everyone else could just stop. They could stop existing and forget everything, but he would keep on living, keep on dying in the void, every second knowing why.


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: I should mention that there is a pretty direct Doctor Who quote in here, and I borrowed it. See if you can guess which line fit is :D I'd love to know what you think of the story so far, and let me know if you have any suggestions. Thanks for all your reviews and alerts – makes me feel special :P**_

_Do we need food? Any sort of supplies?_

_Guns. At least three each. _

The team stood spaced around the conference room table, a macabre display of weaponry neatly laid out in front of them. Standard military Glocks, each employees' personal weapons, plus an array of 'scavenged' guns from the Rift including a Laser Gun were there for the team's choosing.

_What do you expect us to find in there that can be stopped by solid projectiles?_

_With any luck? Nothing. But make sure at least one of your weapons is alien. We dfon't want to wander into a cluster of disembodied void-aliens that you can't kill with bullets unprepared. _

_Understood… Captain. _

Owen grabbed a three-barrelled, miniaturized rifle and strapped it roughly to the outside of his thigh with a series of knots and quick-release clasps. His short lived glee was abruptly dampened by Gwen's disapproving glare.

_What._

_Nothing._

She assumed a light, sophisticated air that oozed with self importance, but couldn't keep up the façade – she succumbed to a fit of giggles. Owen closed his eyes and tried not to roll them as he inhaled a breath of tolerance.

_Yes, Miss Cooper? Does the police force have specific guidelines on arming themselves with alien technology?_

It took the former police officer several harsh gasps of air to compose herself and fix her face into a deadpan and serious expression.

_No, Doctor Harper. But even the Welsh police don't fix their guns so they are pointing at their faces. _

Jack and Tosh, who had been silently arming themselves, hunched over the table – heads together – and poorly suppressed the waves of churlish giggles.

The medic glared at all of them before gallantly bowing his head and whipped the gun around in a half circle so that it now faced the floor. A smug satisfaction crept onto his lips as he flicked a single clasp, the gun now securely clipped to his calf muscle.

_TARDIS is powering up, sir. _

Ianto slipped into the room sporting a tray of water bottles, their caps eased open slightly in classic, gold service style.

_What's with the water, Ianto? Where's the coffee?_

_Combat dehydration sir, coffee is a diuretic and stops the body from retaining vital fluids. You people never drink enough water as it is, and now you are going into what is essentially a desert. You don't know when you will drink next. So drink up now, two bottles each. _

Sceptically, the team took their first bottles and downed them in unison, each watching Ianto with one half closed eye. He had a bored look about him, borderline unimpressed.

_Thanks, Ianto. What would happen to us with out you?_

_Die, probably, sir. _

Jack raised his eyebrows – had Ianto always been this abrupt and cynical? Even if Ianto was royally pissed off he was civil and careful with his words. The Captain began to slip back into a self-centred argument. _Was it him? Did his absence ruin his lover's delicate nature?_

The tray filled with parched water bottles swished out of the room with Ianto suddenly, the second round of drinks on the table quivered together like a coward's knees.

With stomachs bursting with water, the team stalked purposefully into the police box. Jack monumentally grabbed a lever on the round, now glowing, centre console.

_Ready?_

_Sure. We've got nothing else planned for the end of the universe._

_Thanks for that gem, Owen. _

_Oh come off it! What is it with you people? It's always cheery jokes in bad time to make you feel better – which never works - and never a bit of dark humour to put things in perspective – something which a) is funny and b) might actually drag your heads out of the sand so you can look at the problem! _

_When you say it, it's NOT funny! _

Gwen went to elaborate her accusation but was delicately interrupted by a short, welsh cough.

_I don't mean to interrupt this intervention of distasteful personality traits but I suspect we'll be wanting to get on with job right now. I only say this because it would seem the hub is shaking quite violently with – and I'm only guessing – an inter-dimensional disturbance which we really should stop. _

Narrowed, dark eyes cast over the Welshman as the slim wooden door snapped shut impatiently. The sentient machine's depths whirred and grinded with anticipation and angst, keen to begin their journey. A honeyed glow helpfully pulsed around the first of many levers Tosh and Jack needed to press and pull, depress and tug into their actions.

Rattles and clunks echoed around their heads and shook their adrenalin-riddled bodies, ready to be flung into danger after each alien sound. Still, buttons and switches clicked on and off in a cacophony of uncertainty and fear, building with every new beat of the complex mechanical tune.

_Not long now…_

Gwen and Owen stood back to back and slid to the floor, supporting each other with their own weight as their anxiety transformed into irate impatience.

_Almost got it…._

Ianto loosened his tie and unbuttoned his jacket cuffs as he listened to the two TARDIS 'experts' dance around the controls. The rhythm of their work lulled the other three into docile stupors.

The music stopped. Jack and Tosh stepped backwards for a final mental check, the sudden silence was painful and jerked Gwen, Owen and Ianto from their awkward daze.

_So, just the coordinates now? Everyone ready?_

Jack looked around the impossibly spacious room, and it suddenly seemed too small and crowded.

_What the hell have you been doing then? We were ready about… oh… a decade ago! Get on with it._

The impatient medic didn't bother to look up or move from the cold comfort of the metal grate floor, his body shook and his muscles quaked with an indiscriminate mix of agitated emotions.

At a loss for any other reply, Jack shrugged and yanked an ominous lever in front of him and the air filled with a memorable grinding sound. But for some reason, it didn't sound as sweet, nor did it fill him with a warm excitement. The Captain's mouth went dry with a familiar bad taste. It reminded him of the reason the TARDIS sang to him, summoning him into danger's arms, and the aching foreboding of a feeling he tried to avoid. A feeling he tried to run from all the time but was catching up.

Guilt.

Ianto heard the uncomfortable dry swallow his boss tried to hide and could not stop thinking – _about time. _

They were at an impasse now. Several impasses, really. A conglomerate of impasses. Everything now had to stop, all the dancing around planning, avoiding and denying, it now had to be dealt with. Ianto thought through the list.

They couldn't avoid their mission into the void – they were on their way, there was no where else to go or hide. They couldn't avoid a conflict, either. It was inevitable. A fight between Ianto and Jack, the rest choosing sides. One would be right, the other wrong. Neither would take losing gallantly. Then there would be their private battle; a battle of passion and love versus ego and pride.

But did Ianto really care? Did Jack really matter to him? Here they were again, dedicating and sacrificing their lives so Jack can saunter away with the Doctor again. Any way Ianto looked at it he was beaten by the Doctor, possibly more ways - knowing Jack, but Ianto couldn't bear to envisage it.

The Doctor was the single most important person in Jack's life, in everyone's life at the moment – how could Ianto ever compete? Did he want to put effort into the race with Jack's desertion the only prize? Ianto tried not to, but all he could think was _screw the race. _

He regretted even lining up for the starting gun.

And yet here he was, the finish line closing in on him. The Doctor would win, as he always did.

_I thought I had dealt with him. _

Ianto was angry with himself. He had fallen back into the ways of old, obsessing and doing everything in his power to ensure that the world revolved around Jack. In his absence, it was easier to pretend Ianto didn't think about him. Easier to pretend that his world didn't rely on his Captain. But it undeniably did – Jack had been the centre of his life. Jack had been a guilty pleasure that he'd had to give up.

But Ianto had trained himself so well not to care, that now he was disgusted that he was dredging up old thoughts and feelings. He'd gone cold turkey, and now the though of having to detox all over again made him sway with sick memories.

That's all Ianto had to do now – train himself, convince himself that he was not here for Jack. He was here more a more noble pursuit. It was his job to save the universe, and Jack just happened to be here.

At the centre of all the universes collapsing.


	17. Chapter 17

The dank coral walls of the TARDIS shimmered in and out of existence. A time-wearied machine heaved the Torchwood team through the walls of universes and realities.

_How long is this gunna take?_

Four pairs of eyes glared distastefully at the medic in a well-practiced manner. The familiarity with which the team executed this silent warning was unsettling for all of them. For some it was because they could not believe he hadn't figured it out yet, for Owen it was because no one figured out that he actually liked this character flaw.

_The dimensional transference destabilises the hull integrity of the TARDIS, so even once we get into the Void, we will have to wait for her to adjust to her surroundings. It's going to take some time. _

_Thankyou. _

Owen threw a grateful glance at Jack, who looked back with a vague understanding. Jack knew Owen better than anyone on the team, but then, Jack knew everything about his team. That's why he had chosen them; they were predictable and easy to understand. Their histories were mildly entertaining stories that Jack had learned word for emotionless word. And yet Ianto, as usual, was the exception. Ianto came to him. Ianto convinced Jack he would be an asset to Torchwood.

After the discovery of the Welshman's motivation for joining Torchwood, after the dust of deceit had fallen away into hidden cracks, he _was_ an asset. Everyone in the Torchwood team shared a pain, a secret, a reason to hide in the separate reality that was Torchwood.

And yet Jack felt no empathy for his team- they knew nothing of true pain. And as he understood his team more, the more he despised them. The more they wallowed in egocentric pity, the more heavily Jack weighed his own past.

That was why he had to find the Doctor. He didn't want to add another mark to his tally of things he bore the blame for.

His reverie was broken by a slowing of the TARDIS engines. Panic and relief thudded through his veins with a syncopated pulse. He was surprised to find that he was surrounded by his team, all casually glancing over his shoulder, looking at the blue-grey viewing screen. There was nothing to see.

They were in the Void.

_Okay..._

Jack turned around to face the others, mainly to escape the skin-creeping sensation he got when people looked over his shoulder.

_We made it. Just have to check a few things…_

Period military grey fluttered around the circular console as Jack tweaked knobs and fiddled haphazardly with levers, checking small screens against other larger monitors.

_The TARDIS seems happy enough about floating about in oblivion. So I don't think we have cause to worry. _

_Why would we? We're just hanging about in non-existence. Can't see anything because there's nothing to see._

Ianto stood back beside the TARDIS railing and straightened his suit, his face aimed up towards the glowing blue light of the heart of the soulful machine.

_Perhaps there is something to see and we just don't have the capacity to see it. _

Jack frowned down at the panels in front of him, intensely flipping through the interior design settings. The walls of the TARDIS flickered between metal, suede, and coral at each of Jack's flicks.

_How can you not see what is there?_

Gwen and Owen held in sighs reflecting their revelation of the obvious.

_Jack. Ianto's right. It's like night time outside – just because we can't see doesn't mean there is nothing there. _

Ianto agreed with Gwen, and even more with her night time simile. In the night, in the dark, in the absence of light, a mass of fearful and entirely real things lingered out of sight. Children had a fear of the dark for a reason, the same reason Ianto had spent his first night in hospital with his finger jammed next to the nurse-call button. Nurses brought their tiny but joyously bright torches with them, shining light into the back of his eye, giving Ianto a tiny glow of light and a reprieve from the unknowable darkness. A darkness, Ianto guessed, that Jack had to crawl through every time he died, and a darkness that the Doctor was suffocating and drowning in.

_So what, are you suggesting that we play spotlight with the Doctor? Sure, I'll flip on the TARDIS headlights and just go for a spin, see if we find him._

Jack's voice cracked and he swallowed hard, his throat sticky and clogged like he had just eaten a jar of peanut butter.

_I'm tempted to shout at him for being unhelpfully negative again, but I'll be wasting air, won't I? _

Gwen rubbed her brow semi-dramatically as she spoke, then stared at Jack, unimpressed. Jack scowled back at her for a brief moment before his expression fell back to its new default setting: grey, lost and, broken. He muttered a weak and incoherent retort.

_God, just go and sit in a corner and until you have something useful to contribute, shut your useless, abandoning, and COMPLETELY-responsible-for-this-whole-fucking-mess mouth. _

Jack coughed with a quarter-hearted indignation.

_Well said, Tosh. _

Ianto did not smile as he spoke, nor did Tosh smile at the compliment.

It had been too long without Jack. And not quite long enough. The four abandoned Torchwood workers were in the awkward midway point of accepting that Captain Jack Harkness would never return. They had been telling themselves that it was a good thing he had left. Each individual had convinced themselves that they were better off without Jack, and had not had any time to contradict themselves.

Tosh, whose outburst was uncharacteristically rude but characteristically true, whispered. It was high pitched, breathy, and completely honest.

_I hate you, Jack. _

Gwen grabbed Tosh's hand and squeezed it in agreement. The small contact between the two women was not lost on Jack. He pulled back from the TARDIS console and stepped away.

Tosh, Owen, and Gwen stood together. Jack stood alone. Ianto stood alone. Silent and loathing.

The TARDIS hummed politely in the background, its light slowly growing dimmer, slowly serenading the room into a colourless fog. Jack blinked, hoping it was his own eyes that were fading from exhaustion or in surrender. It wasn't.

Ianto sobbed suddenly.

_It's getting darker. _

_Why? I didn't do anything. Jack? Gwen? Owen?_

Tosh held her hands up away from the console. She looked from person to fading person until she faced Ianto.

_What? Ianto? Did you just-_

_Why is it so dark? Stop it. Turn the lights back on. Please. Turn them back on. _

Ianto choked on his air. No clean air would come in, all he had in his lungs was thick and panic-sodden fog. His fingers instinctively scrabbled for his tie and pulled it loose and then pawed at his eyes, tearing the thin bandage from them. Owen had wrapped a vibrant white bandage before they left. He convinced Ianto that it was dusty in the TARDIS and his eyes should be protected, but both knew full well it was as a reminder to Jack. Jack needed to be reminded every second that people were continuously hurt because they trusted him, and were let down.

_Ianto, cariad. You can't see anyway. You can't see it getting darker._

Gwen gently pulled Ianto onto his knees and held the sides of his face in her palms. Ianto's hands layered on top of hers. He did not understand. He breathed in disbelief, syllables and sounds escaped from his throat but none made sense. Words were insufficient anyway.

It was Ianto's universe ending. He could see nothing. He could imagine nothing. The sense was oppressive. The darker Ianto saw his world yet, the more unimaginable the bleakness was. How could he see it getting darker? He couldn't remember any time that was not shrouded in the colourless dark.

Jack hesitantly walked to Ianto and rested a hand on his shoulder. As he spoke his hand slid up to Ianto's cheek, pushing Gwen's hand away.

_Don't think about it. Tell me something else. Think about a memory about touch. Tell me how something felt. Was it hard? Soft? Sharp or du-_

_It was soft. Fabric. It had been folded messily… like it had been folded and shoved into a bag._

Ianto's breathing slowed.

_What else about it? How did it smell?_

_It smelled nice. And disgusting. _

Jack leaned closer and Ianto began to whisper in Jack's ear.

_It smelled like you. And I hated it. _

Ianto shoved Jack in the chest, pushing Jack off balance on onto the floor in a tangled pile of coat and man. The Welshman sat leaning forward with his face looking down, his hands on his knees, and he cried.

_Jack, what's happening? _

Gwen was holding her own hand tightly, staring intensely at the Captain. He lay still on the floor, resigned.

_Sight. It's the first thing the Void takes from you. It steals it. First you can't see. Then you can't remember what things look like. Then you don't remember what these weird categories called 'colours' are for. Then it goes to work on all your other senses. Ianto didn't have any sight to lose, so everything else started to go faster. We're all going to end up like him.  
_

_So you made him cry?_

_Emotion is the hardest thing to get rid of in the void – it's not a sense that you can be stripped of. But it is connected to your senses. You get upset because of something someone said to you, or something you saw. Being sad or angry in the void stops you going mad from fear._

_How do you know all this?_

_I've been here before. _


	18. Chapter 18

_You? Here? Before? Seriously? Wha- No. I don't care. _

Gwen was reduced to monosyllabic words and juvenile exclamations.

_You should. _

Jack was right. He had been found in the Void and escaped. Regardless of the team's animosity towards the Captain, they had to listen to his pitiful voice again.

The TARDIS shook violently, and in the fading grey light of the room most of the Torchwood team watched nearly half the lights on the console flicker out of life; a reminder of the fragility of their situation. If the Void could shake the epic machine of the TARDIS into disrepair, what hope did they as bruisable humans have of escaping unscathed?

_Then tell us, Jack. How did you get out?_

Captain Jack Harkness straightened, imitating his past confidence and air of importance. It was a poor imitation; he barely held himself up beneath the weight of his military coat. He shrugged the coat off and moved to drape it over Ianto's shaking shoulders, but the moment Ianto felt its sleeve he slapped it away.

Jack let the coat fall unwanted to the floor and he slid roughly to the ground beside it.

_I convinced the Doctor to watch a binary solar system die. One star was exploding, the imploding. I thought the two would cancel each other out._

He shook his head as if he had been so obviously illogical, like he had suggested that mixing concrete and jelly could make a trampoline.

_We were standing in the open TARDIS door. We thought we were safe but the TARDIS disagreed. She started travelling at her own accord. Got into its time space travelling groove – and I fell out. Nasty place to fall from – you're no where. And, as Ianto put it so succinctly before, anywhen. That's the void. _

_No shit, Sherlock. _

Owen rolled his eyes and leaned back onto the railing. Everyone was sitting down, tired from going around in circles, going no where, and gaining nothing but a headache. And it was getting darker.

_How did you get _out?

Jack did not reply. He stared mournfully through the dimming light at Ianto, thoughts somewhere between pity, shame, and desire. The young Welshman sat leaning away from his former lover, his own arms wrapped around himself for comfort and warmth.

The TARDIS shook again.

_The Doctor followed me. When the TARDIS materialised somehow it found me. It materialised around me somehow. The Doctor told me he did something with the TARDIS's memory bank and its GPS-ish machine. _

_So the TARDIS can remember a person's bio-signature and track it? _

_Maybe?_

Tosh sat straighter as her mind flicked through the TARDIS machine diagrams, linking cables in her head. As she stood up she pulled Gwen with her.

_Pull that panel off, Gwen. _

The medic, the Captain, and the tea boy stayed silently seated, each lost to an individual pain.

_So it's not really your fault that the Doctor ended up in the Void. He would have come… No matter who you were…. I can't believe I'm trying to make you feel better about this but it was pretty much dumb luck. You could almost blame the TARDIS. Why are you taking all the responsibility?_

Gwen and Tosh glanced at each other as they tried to open the panel that connected to location coordinates technology: another self pitying speech was bound to follow. Always the martyr, Jack took the limelight whether it was good or bad.

_That's not it. I pushed him out. _

_You're fucking kidding me, mate. You pushed the most important person – in the UNIVERSE – out the fucking door? _

_He… he… asked me what it was like. In the Void. I couldn't explain. I was angry. And so sick of dying. He was looking through the door – with that look of wonder on his face. It's the same no matter what situation he's in. He loves new things and doesn't care what pain it's caused in the past. He thinks everything is fucking beautiful and amazing. Always willing to give a second chance. _

_So by your logic, anything that has killed anything should be destroyed. Great! Why don't we throw your sorry arse out again! _

Jack launched himself across the floor and tackled Owen. The weaker, younger, and less experienced fighter was pinned to the ground by the Captain, who knelt astride Owen's chest wildly swinging punches.

_I. Will. Not. Go. Back. THERE!_

Every word was punctuated with a punch that connected with Owen's face. Pub brawls were poor and useless experiences in a fight against an ineffably old warhorse of a military man. The medic's legs kicked lamely as he tried to shield his face from the battery he received, but he only succeeded in being punched through his own hands. The cruel school yard taunt of 'stop hitting your self' echoed through Owen's already ringing ears.

Gwen dropped the panel she was holding and began to stand up; she was ready to fix things and make everyone behave.

_Forget them, Gwen. They'll sort it. We have slightly more pressing things to deal with than a childish tiff. _

Although both women knew the brawl was all but immature, and brought on by pure and dangerous panic, Tosh was right. Gwen bent back down and wended her hands back into the depths of the open console.

Tears splattered Jack's face; his haphazard attack shook his tears down his cheeks and through his crows feet towards his ears. He looked like an old war veteran fighting off night terrors.

_Jack. Stop. Harkness!_

Owen struggled beneath the Captain's weight. He elbowed Jack in the sweet spot of his leg and Jack crumpled to that side.

_Don't fight medics, Harkness. We study weaknesses for fun._

He kneed Jack in the soft flesh beside his spine. Jack arched backwards as his muscles contracted in sudden pain. Owen rolled away; only his legs were left partially trapped beneath Jack's. He wiped his face and his hand shone with blood.

_You bastard. _

Owen dragged himself up towards Jack, who was trying to stand up too. The two men stood bent over, clutching themselves in pain, facing one another. Owen comically held himself in a half-fighter's position, both hands clenched into fists and guarding his face.

Jack chuckled.

Owen moved to punch him but fell down softly, like a dropped stuffed doll. Behind the crumpled and unconscious medic was Ianto, stretching his already reddening hand. His face was pale apart from the sides of his eyes where he had repeatedly and roughly wiped away his tears. He tripped over Owen and walked towards the sound of Jack's wheezing. He stooped to match his height to the still-bent-over Jack, his ear level with Jack's rasping mouth.

_He is right. You are a bastard. _

Ianto put his hand softly onto Jack's shoulder, and then kneed his old lover in the stomach. Instinct and half-remembered training rolled into gear in Jack's head and instead of falling back like he should, he rolled forwards and dropped his shoulder into the bottom of Ianto's rib cage. They fell to the floor and scrambled for the upper hand.

Ianto ended up on top.

_That might be the first time. _

Jack silently mused. Flashes of Ianto's naked, perspiring back crossed his mind. A vicious kiss from Ianto's fist bit across Jack's face and punched Jack's explicit photo album flashback away.

Ianto swung his arms fiercely, ignorant of whether or not his punches landed. Anger, and expressing it, was the only sense that he knew. He sat with all his weight on Jack's rib cage, and vibrations from the depths of Jack's chest reverberated up through Ianto's back. Whether they were from sobs of pain and apology or a plead for a reprieve did not matter to Ianto. He continued his assault. Bludgeoning those lying lips, bruising those teasing, wandering eyes.

_Ianto! Stop it!_

Gwen snapped from across the room, her hands and attention elsewhere. Ianto showed no signs of slowing, or that he had even heard her.

_You'll need to shout for once, Gwen. The Void's taking his hearing. He's almost down to pure emotion and no senses. _

Ianto struggled and bit.

The struggle hurt Jack to the core. He had created a violence in Ianto that should not have existed. Not only that, but it was the same violence, the same hate, that Jack had experienced in the Void the first time. That hate was clearly returning in him. The light that was disappearing, the light Ianto had lost long before him, was being replaced by uncontrollable rage. Fighting Owen should have been Jack's second warning. He was just now realising the first: he could hardly see any more. The penetrating darkness had almost completely intruded the sanctuary of the TARDIS.

_We have to go. Get us out of the Void. _

Jack shouted at Tosh, who was furiously untangling wires below the TARDIS's console panel.

Ianto shoved his hands through Jack's flailing arms and wrapped his hands around Jack's throat.

_Why would you send that blanket back? Why would you keep reminding me of you? Of your absence?_

Animal growls made up Ianto's sentences, disguising his tearful and weak voice. He wanted an answer, another reason to dissect Jack's behaviour as a way of intentionally injuring him. He could barely make out the sound of his own question, and knowing that he couldn't hear the answer fuelled his anger. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip, ready to throttle the man beneath him like a dying fowl.

Jack changed his tactics and pulled Ianto close to him in an awkward and suffocating bear hug. Ianto had been using his weight to compete with Jack's strong, unbending arms, and collapsed onto Jack when there was no resistance. He was face down, nestled in the warm embrace he used to crave and delight in. In the embrace of a liar and a deserter.

Jack's lips brushed Ianto's ears.

_I thought it would let you know that I was thinking of you. _

_That's one of the problems with mailing sentimental things, then, isn't it? You don't know if you're bringing back good or bad memories. _

The TARDIS shook violently, mechanically grinding and plunging, and Jack paused in distraction. Ianto took his chance and thrashed in Jack's slightly weakened embrace.

Jack countered by wrapping his legs around Ianto's, and they rolled side to side as the TARDIS continued its rumbling and rocking. The tiny lights the TARDIS had managed to keep alive died, and the Torchwood team flickered into complete darkness and silence. Silence like they had never known sound.

Ianto felt Jack scream and the fear that caused it. Tendrils, tangible and mental, crept over Ianto and he shared Jack's panic. The Void was overcoming them, and it was unbearable. Ianto remembered Jack's words, to think of a strong memory, and he clung to the painful feeling of desertion and worthlessness he had felt when he held Jack's blanket in the hospital. His panic was replaced with concentrated hate.

The TARDIS shook once more, but the rumble tapered off slowly, like thunder in the distance. Light returned.

Ianto felt Jack's grip release, and the older man's entire body tensed then suddenly relaxed. Perhaps Jack had given in, and surrendered. Perhaps he was ready for his sour and just dessert. Ianto hesitated. If Jack was ready to be punished, Ianto was not prepared to give him what he wanted.

Then Ianto felt the difference. Sound flooded back, and splashes of light hurt his head. He could make out the light blue centre of the TARDIS again, as he could before.

_Jack, does this count as the twenty-third time I have walked in on you?_

The betrayed tea-boy heard the new voice, and its owner, enter the room. Ianto rolled out of Jack's arm's and pulled himself up on the railing.

_I'm surprised it's only twenty-three. Or is that only in the TARDIS?_

Ianto dusted his lapel and walked away from a heavily-breathing Jack, trailing his hand on the rail for direction. The new comer stood partly in his way so Ianto paused and politely motioned with his hand for room to pass.

_Excuse me, Doctor. _

**A/N: Sorry for the huge gaps between posting guys, it's a terrible habit I am trying to break. I'm trying to incorporate some of the things I have learned at uni, and I would love to hear some feedback about what works and what doesn't. Hope you're still enjoying in and thanks for all the alerts, favourites, and reviews. And… Happy New Year! **


	19. Chapter 19

Ianto walked along the seemingly infinite passageways of the TARDIS, turning only in order to avoid chance gazes from those left in the console room. It was comforting, Ianto thought, to walk safely in the dark. There were only two things that could hurt him. One was the danger of walking into something in this unfamiliar world, the other was who he was walking away from. He chose the lesser evil and kept walking, hoping that the TARDIS corridors weren't on a slight curve that would lead him back into unwanted company.

It seemed that he couldn't walk far enough away; chatty and relieved voices followed him at a never changing volume. Relief and a resounding feeling of success should have swarmed his body, replaying the elation each of them felt after the righting of worlds, after a typical 'Doctor and Co.' saving-the-world routine.

Broken hearts and broken bodies were intertwined with Ianto's Torchwood life. Alien horrors and interveners stole his other half and tried to pawn off the organisation and work as a fulfilling alternative. The effort it took to get into Torchwood, the commitment and emotion Ianto had to wrestle with to be with Jack, and be happy, were now wasted and empty calories. Wasted and ridiculous, Ianto mused. He knew just how to play Jack in the beginning and he knew exactly what he was like. And then he simply forgot.

He felt like a zookeeper. He knew how to train Jack to get what he wanted, what treats to give as rewards, what to withhold. He became complacent and pretended that Jack was all training and all sense. And Ianto was so blinded by routine that he was surprised one day to find Jack behaving like his nature, not his nurture.

The further Ianto walked, the slower he became, until his purposeful and indignant march became more like a summer stroll. He even brushed his fingers along the bumpy wall as though it were tall grass or pretty fencing. The walk he imagined he was walking became more idyllic and alluring than his reality.

He was, Ianto realised, alone in both.

Isolation was a strong word. It spoke of a sudden separation from everything important and social, a sudden destruction of relationships without a safe haven to find comfort in. It conjured the image of a young boy trapped inside his house, watching through the window and the rain his friends playing in puddles.

What Ianto had was not isolation. It was seclusion; not by choice but by default. His default setting was to survive, to carry on, and to forge a façade of apathy. The two attempts to break his programming failed, and he couldn't tell who was at fault anymore.

The sound of Ianto's footsteps changed from the deep echo of the metal grids to a light and tinny clink. Ianto slowed down and his trailing hand hit a side rail. He shuffled a little until he found the edge of the staircase. It was a long flight of stairs and Ianto began to get bored and annoyed. Something as simple as not knowing how much further he needed to climb down was more irritating at that moment than his relationship with Jack.

Or his former relationship with Jack. Or his current awkward and angry relationship with Jack.

The frustrated Welshman sat down on the staircase, not knowing how far from the top or bottom he was. He stared into his personal, almost familiar, black world and found a flickering light. It was a vague sort of light, not from a small bulb or anything that might have edges, more like a glow.

_Ah, you've found the pool. _

A slow, syncopated beat of footsteps thrummed down the stairs and stopped beside Ianto.

_I always felt this was my favourite step in this staircase. So close to the bottom, but not quite close enough to say you're actually there._

_Hello, Doctor._

_Hullo. Have a nice walk?_

Ianto sighed hugely.

_It was rather lacking in scenery. _

The Doctor chuckled.

_I'm sure the TARDIS would be very put out if you said that earnestly. _

_It is only just flat metal. Smooth and passive. _

Ianto's occupation with the obvious exhausted him, so he slumped over and rested his head on his hands, propped up on his elbows. The Doctor shook his head.

_I prefer to see _her _as deceptively private old girl, only sharing a scenery with people she knows well, and who know her just as well back. When I walk this staircase I am walking down it with a friend, reliving an exciting moment we'd all been through together. The control room is the most beautiful room to me in the whole world because it's decorated with all the moments with my friends. The TARDIS shows them to me every time I look around._

_You have a picky machine then, Doctor. It's hard to know and plays favourites._

The Doctor tilted his head as he thought.

_I suppose she is picky, but every living, thinking thing in all the universes is, from time to time. We all have one or two things close to us, then we like to make happy only because when they are happy we feel more alive and jubilant than any other moment. _

_And when they are taken from us we feel more alone, empty, and useless than we ever imagined we could. _

_There is that, too. _

_Then it's not worth it, Doctor. It's not worth playing favourites. Seeing happiness from afar will still make us happy, and all the less sad when it's not there, because we know that happiness will always be out there, regardless of how I feel. _

_That's a sad and bitter point of view, Mr Jones, if I ever heard one. But, I can't pretend I've never agreed with it before, and I can't pretend that I don't know why you feel that way. _

There he paused. Ianto felt the comfortable silence grew from mutual understanding, but the Doctor was meant to continue on, to tear wounds open a little more before they could heal.

_It is Jack's fault, but not entirely. He's been dealt hand that will never win. The moment Rose, Bad Wolf, brought him back forever – he's older than me, you know? _

Ianto shifted uncomfortably. It made sense, but he always imagined Jack as a childish version of the Doctor, less than the Doctor in every measurement. For the second time Ianto had the urge to use his hands to read someone's expression. Did the Doctor look haggard and broken, trying to justify an even more broken friend? Or was he perfectly in control, a face of no emotion, the calm face to that incited fear his foes and sympathy in friends?

_Can you imagine knowing everyone you ever met would die before you, friends dying just as you were finally getting to know them, finally giving in to that very human weakness of wanting companionship – and knowing it's all doomed? _

_Doctor, that line has been fed to me far too many times to make it mean anything. You can't be scared of making friends just because you know they'll eventually leave._

The Doctor raised his eyebrow and waited. The silence grew longer and Ianto grew angrier at the Doctor, angrier at Jack, for trying to palm off _mere humans _as pointless and futile friends.

Ianto suddenly snorted. How a snort communicated ironic humour bemused Ianto momentarily as he leaned back on the stairs, a beaten smile plastered across his face.

_I see what you've done there. Very clever._

_Thanks. _

The Doctor and Ianto's smiles mirrored one another's.

_So what does that mean, Doctor. What happens now?_

_You carry on. You always do. You are independent. _

_So is Jack. Does that mean we will both carry on?_

_No. Jack is not independent. It looks like he is, but have you ever seen him do anything alone? _

_Yes. He goes off by himself all the time. _

_True, but where do you think he goes? He leaves one person for another, and develops the most tedious of connections between them. He needs an audience. His need for connections and contact is, among other things, why he was terrified in the Void. _

Ianto shifted how he was sitting, perplexed and pensive.

_And you weren't? _

_I have never felt so scared. I'm like Jack. I need people. Isolation is something I have had too many times before. You can cope with isolation, Ianto Jones. You may not cope well, but you have these other, stronger needs that help compensate. You can't argue that you have the overwhelming need, and ability, to compensate._

Ianto smiled, and then weakly turned his expression to mock hurt.

_I'm not compensating for everything._

The Doctor exhaled a breathy laugh, a weak attempt at a sympathetic chuckle.

_Such a human ability. Laughing and making jokes to lighten serious conversation. To avoid saying what you really think. Human communication is so ambiguous. _

Ianto shrank into his coat at another belittling comment from the Time Lord. Poor, weak, little humans and their incapacity to rival the pure perfection of the almighty dual-hearted race. Obviously perfection and a lack of humanity turned out really well for them, Ianto silently fumed, sick of the Doctor's incessant preaching.

_It's a good shield. Every human I have ever met has that barrier protecting them from the world. Sometimes they are easier to break down when both sides are working to break it down. You and Jack are two sides that did just that, and it hurts everyone that all that effort went to waste._

_So I should just forgive him, so it's more convenient for everyone to get along all happy and merry again. Sorry Doctor, I'm not that philanthropic. _

Ianto's face stiffened. He stood and turned to face up the stairs.

_I know Jack is a wonder boy to you Doctor, and you have a heart that is always willing to forgive. But even Jack said that's something he hates about you. There are some things that you should just never forgive, and never forget. Maybe that's a fascinating new _human trait _for you to ogle at for the next hundred years. _

And he marched up the stairs, trying to keep some façade of composure, but his wobbling hands and knees made his ascent undignified.

Ianto's clumsy footsteps echoed around the Doctor as he sat and considered the complexities of anger.

_MERE humans._

He laughed at the complete inaccuracy of Ianto's words.

_So you did go crazy in there, Doctor. _

Jack stepped out of the hallway across the other side of the pool.

_I think insanity creeps up on everyone every second they are alone when they don't want to be._

It was Jack's turn to laugh, but his was quiet and lacked honesty. He kicked at the water as he walked along the side of the pool.

_Fantastic acoustics in this room. Sound carries well, _Jack whispered to the water.

_It's strange how distance doesn't affect conversation at all, _The Doctor said dryly.

Each step Jack took was a distinct and weighty decision to continue to the bottom of the stairs, and he watched only his feet as he walked. He finally looked up at the younger man after he had shifted his weight uncomfortably for a few hesitant seconds.

_You have always been the one with the wisdom. _

_Only when you come looking for it. But you always know the answer that you come looking for. You know, with out mentioning spoilers, I'll come looking for help from you one day._

Jack scuffed his shoe across the floor, a little flush of delight blushing his cheeks. But he was not smiling.

_Doctor. I'm sorry. What Ianto said – what he said I said – it was true. _

_But it's true. But I'm never _willing _to forgive some. I sit in that ugly position where I've done the unforgivable as well… empathy working against you and all._

_Still. I'm sorry I said it._

I_ know you're sorry. But _you_ know who doesn't think you are. _

Jack leaned against the wall and sighed in reluctant agreement. The two old souls were quiet for a while, trying not to think. Jack broke the silence.

_How are you still so together? You just came out of the… the..._

_I don't know. It's how I want to imagine death: peaceful, dark, nothing but your memories for company. Death for you is anything but peaceful: you know its horrors for certain. Every time I see you revive I can see hellfire and agony in your eyes, and it's the only thing I run from. _

Jack's stomach involuntarily clenched at the mention of his excruciating revival, and he winced at the certainty it would happen again. He took a deep breath and his body began to relax. The calm didn't last long.

_But do you know, Doctor – _

The Doctor looked up at the strange determined change in Jack's tone.

_Hell is what I'm in when I know Ianto Jones hates me. And it hurts more than being buried and dying for two thousand years. _


	20. Chapter 20

The Doctor smiled as the familiar military coat dashed past him at a familiar speed, the wearer departing in a familiarly determined attitude. The sound of thudding boots disappeared, and the Doctor was alone again. He looked around half hoping that another one of these unique humans, brought together by an organisation to hunt and destroy him, had come to save him from silence.

No one did come, and it became too quite. The shadows tricked his eyes and closed around the lights, closing in on him. He rubbed his eyes and jumped up, then began cantering up the stairs towards the voices he knew existed and waited to bathe him company.

The TARDIS ground its way back into reality and shuddered as it touch solid ground. They could see on the viewing screen that the world outside was slightly out of focus, but moving back together. Everyone waited and watched as The Doctor fiddled with dials mildly related to the meters that some how represented 'normality of the universe'.

The door opened. No one felt the need to say goodbye, but Gwen smiled uncertainly at the Doctor in a vague thankyou-you're-welcome-back way.

The Torchwood team filed out one at a time. Owen quickly walked out first, holding the side of his bleeding head and limping awkwardly, not knowing which leg hurt more. Tosh and Gwen walked closer together in a rare display of female equality. _They _had done the work to save them, and the revelled in the fact none of the men had discovered that yet. Ianto followed at a small distance, staying close enough that he could follow the sounds of his workmates and figure out where there were. The Hub, he discovered as he tapped over a familiar length of corrugations in the concrete: just outside the Information Centre.

Jack lingered inside a moment, watching his team walk off independently, all of them thinking about the paper work they were about to avoid doing.

_Ianto, I need a bloody coffee, in my hand, as I use the other one to stitch up my fucking broken face. _

_Absolutely. Would you like your own blood or a particular type. _

Owen stopped and glared at the suited Welshman, and began to lean forward and leer as Ianto walked past him, unaware.

_For the purposes of being understood by a self-destructive tea boy, I am glaring at you Mr Jones with as much pissed-off-ness I can muster._

Ianto held the information centre's door, smiled politely and ushered Owen inside.

_I am well aware of that, Mr Harper. It makes your broken face almost appear normal again. _

Owen paused.

_What? Can you… how do you… Can you actually see my face, Ianto?_

_A little. _

Ianto smiled, genuinely pleased.

_If I shut my eye, and catch you in full sun, I can make where the blood is running on your face – they're opposite colours. _

The coroner smiled – he'd forgotten how pleasing it could be to work with patients whose conditions actually improved.

_Although, I'm not sure I would have chosen _your _face to have seen first._

Owen grunted as he limped through the door, and a placidly smiling Ianto followed, shutting the door behind them.

Jack stepped out of the TARDIS and looked back and forth between the Doctor back inside and the closing door of the Information Centre. He tugged his coat high up around his neck as the wind leapt towards him from across the icy Cardiff Bay. The Doctor stood at the top of the ramp inside the TARDIS, leaving an uncomfortable but intentional distance between the two.

_Take care, Jack._

_I will. _

Both men fidgeted, needing to say something more, but not wanting to say a word. Jack finally stepped forward.

_I know I've never done right by you – never quite been up to your moral code. But I _am_ a better person than that twisted, scared, bastard who threw you into oblivion. _

The Doctor stepped closer to Jack and leaned up against the blue timber door. He crossed his arms and waited, his eyes expectant like a tired mother expecting her child to say 'thankyou' as it received a present.

Obedience never had been Jack's strong card.

_I'll see you next time, Doctor. _

His coat whipped around him as he walked away from the man in the blue box, who would always be there, and who would always come back.

As the door chimes tinkled with Jack's entrance, the TARDIS faded out of that moment unnoticed.

Ianto sat at the help desk absently flipping through a magazine, occasionally starting when the sun reflected off the glossy pages to mimic true sight. Jack approached hesitantly. The white bandages he had been so afraid of were gone from his lover's face, revealing two bloodshot eyes – though the left was far redder than the right.

The distance to the desk became shorter and Jack seriously considered walking past it, leaving the monumental rift between the two to expand with an uneasy rapidity.

_Jack. _

Ianto didn't even look up as he spoke. Jack paused, expecting Ianto to continue. He didn't. It hadn't been a 'hang on, I have something to say' _Jack_, it was more of a warning from a fed up partner in an unhappy relationship; except Ianto had long ago abandoned the labels of partner and relationship.

There were two chairs in front of Ianto's desk, so Jack stiffly slid onto the one closest to him and Ianto. Ianto finally ended his masquerade of reading and flipped the magazine closed. He leaned back in chair a little, correcting his posture. The scene's likeness to an interrogation was uncanny.

_What have I done to you?_

Ideas of accusation, bitterness, and bewilderment floated in the air. Ianto hardly expected an answer; he had hardly expected the question.

_It's not you. _

Jack blurted, sucking his lips together to barricade any other words teetering on his tongue.

Ianto's face didn't change, but the slumping of his back betrayed his emotion.

_It never is. It's always you. It's always been about you. _

He stood up and pushed his chair in, then leaned on the chair back and looked away from Jack and at the bright window.

Jack didn't want another cold silence; he swept off the chair and imposed himself into Ianto's gaze.

They stood one stride apart, and Jack closed the distance and looked directly into Ianto's better eye. Sunshine illuminated Jack's face, and Ianto watched Jack's shadowed lips open and close, half forming words with no heart or belief behind them. Jack knew what he wanted to say.

_I still do love you._

Jack's finger traced the bottom of Ianto's jaw before cupping the younger man's cheek. He leaned forwards and gently kissed Ianto.

Ianto put his hand on his boss's shoulder and softly pushed him away.

_I don't think you do. I think you're in love with a moment. That's all anyone can be to you. I understand that your… longevity is a curse. For everyone. Love does feel a little insincere coming from someone who's had generations of lovers before. _

_You can love more than one person in a lifetime._

Jack's eyes burned with impetuous tears and his weak voice wobbled in time with his chin.

_You think I don't know that? But can you really ever get past your first love – do you ever stop comparing every other you meet and love with your first?_

Ianto took a step back as he spoke.

_I have never compared you with anyone. You're just a naïve child who hasn't lived enough to learn _anything _important. _

_And that's just it, isn't it. I was never going to live for much longer anyway. That's Torchwood. We. All. Die. Young._

A buzzer stopped Jack from arguing back, and Owen yelled down the corridor that linked the Hub to the Information Centre.

_Where's my bloody coffee? It better be the best damn coffee I ever drank if it takes this fucking long. _

Ianto took another step away from his old lover and tried to layer professionalism over his emotion-thick voice.

_Duties call, sir. Would you like a cup of coffee? It might taste different in a new mug. _

_No thank you, Ianto. I won't impose on your time. _

The tea-boy nodded and walked away, his almost perfectly polished shoes tapping as he walked.

Jack sniffed and rubbed his face. The room still felt like Ianto was in it. There wasn't a time he had kept in his memory that the Information Centre didn't have Ianto in it. It had hardly occurred to him before that he didn't remember people who had gone.

He saw names and faces and felt nothing good: pain was umbrella emotion for every smiling, every dying face and memory he conjured.

Ianto stood beside the coffee machine, holding a steel pot of milk under the frothing spout, his finger lightly touching the bottom to make sure the milk didn't burn. The CCTV screen sat on the bench beside him, the contrast and brightness cranked up to only show ebony silhouettes and snow white background.

A black solid black rectangle glided through a slightly larger white rectangle, and then disappeared out of the screen. Ianto's bottom lip twinged, and he stopped moving the milk around in smooth circles.

The heat on the bottom of the jug had been growing steadily warmer, and the warmth suddenly stung with boiling heat. Ianto's hand convulsed and he slammed the jug on the bench. Boiling milk spattered over his hand.

With difficulty, he unclenched his hand and ran it under water while his other hand rummaged under the bench. He pulled out a box of gel patches, tore the packeting off with his teeth, patted his burned hand dry on his shirt, and slapped the cold gel to his blistering hand. The pain instantly ebbed away as the anaesthetic seeped into his skin. He exhaled steadily.

When he finished making the coffees he loaded them on a tray and smoothly strolled out of the kitchen. Tosh muttered a 'ta' as he set her mug on her desk and turned to Gwen.

_Oh, thankyou cariad, _she breathed as she sipped her elixir. She rolled her eyes as she revelled in its warmth and deliciousness, and Ianto began to walk away in satisfaction to his last delivery.

_Did Jack come in with you? _

Ianto slowed down at the top of the stairs and half turned back to Gwen.

_No, he's gone off again. _

Toshiko kept typing, Gwen took another sip of her coffee, Owen still clattered with his tools, and Ianto walked steadily down the stairs without spilling any coffee.

**A/N – Well that's it friends! I hope you enjoyed reading Eyes Unclouded as much as I enjoyed writing it. If I could ask a small favour of you, I will be grateful if you could give me some constructive criticism – what did you like about it, what didn't you like? Did I over do something or mess up continuity or characterisation? I want to improve my writing, and see if I have actually implemented anything I have learnt at uni. Thank you so much for reading, favouriting, and reviewing. May all your fanfics be read and reviewed by thousands! O. **


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